THE 


m%  m  m%  mm$$^ 


IN    PRESS. 


G-EOGRAPHICAL     STUDIES, 


BY    TBK    LATB 


PKOFESSOR   CARL  RITTEE, 


OF    BERLIN. 


XRXtdntth  ixam  tl^t  orijinal  (ierman, 


WITH  A 


SKETCH  OF  THE  AUTHOR'S  LIFE, 


BT 


WILLIAM    LEONHARD    GAGE. 

With  a  fine  Portrait  of  the  Author. 

0 

Peof.  ARNOLD  GUYOT,  the  eminent  physicist,  and  author  of  the  popular 
work,  "The  Earth  and  Man,"  in  speaking  of  distinguished  scientific  men,  says:  — 
•'  Humboldt,  Rittbr  and  SiErFENS  are  the  three  great  minds  who  have  breathed 
a  new  life  into  the  science  of  the  physical  and  moral  world.  The  scientific  life  of 
the  author  opened  under  the  full  radiance  of  the  light  they  spread  around  them, 
and  it  is  with  a  sentiment  of  filial  piety  that  he  delights  to  recall  this  connection 
and  to  render  to  them  his  public  homage." 


THE 


STOEY  OF  MY  CAREER, 


AS 


STUDENT  AT  FREIBERG  AND  JENA, 


AND    AS 

WITH 

PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES  OF  GOETHE,  SCHILLER,  8CHELLINO, 
6CHLEIERMACHER,  FICHTE,  NOVALIS,  SCHLEGEL, 
•  NEANDER,  AND  OTHERS. 

B  Y 

HEINRICH    STEFFENS. 

.    TBANSLATBD    BT 

WILLIAM  LEONHARD  GAGE. 


BOSTON: 
GOULD      AND      LINCOLN, 

60     WASHINGTON     STREET. 

NEW    YORK:    SHELDON    AND    COMPANY. 

CINCINNATI:    GEORGE  S.  BLANCHARD. 

1863. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  In  the  year  1863,  by 

GOULD    AND    LINCOLN, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  District  of  Massachusetts. 


GEO.   C.   BAITS   ft   ATEST, 
BLSCXKOTTPEBS    AKD    FCIS^TEBS. 


(J 


introduction; 


Heinrich  Steffens  was  born  at  Stavanger,  in  Nor- 
way, the  second  day  of  May,  1773.  He  spent  but  a  few 
years  in  his  native  country,  and  while  he  was  a^ere  child 
his  parents  removed  to  Copenhagen,  which  became  the  home 
of  his  youth.  He  studied  in  the  universities  of  Copenha- 
gen and  of  Eliel,  and  became  a  licensed  lecturer  in  the  lat- 
ter before  reaching  the  age  of  twenty-five.  He  manifested 
very  early  a  love  for  a  certain  class  of  metaphysical  studies, 
—  that  which  builds  on  a  basis  of  physical  science  a  lofly 
though  rather  slight  and  unsubstantial  superstructure  of  sen- 
timent. Steffens  had  a  remarkable  leaning  to  the  philosophy 
of  religion,  and  though  his  was  by  no  means  a  logical  mind, 
nor  one  which  enjoyed  logical  processes,  yet  he  loved  those 
long  and  vague  meditations  on  the  attributes  of  the  Deity 
in  which  many  of  the  German  scholars  indulge.  He  came 
mainly  under  the  influence  of  Spinoza,  and  passed  at  a  later 
period  under  that  of  Jacobi,  Kant,  and  Schelling.  In  his 
mature  years  the  last  named  was  his  master  without  a  rival ; 

m 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

but  Spinoza  was  the  first  great  genius  who  awoke  the  pow- 
ers of  Stefiens,  and  shaped  his  mind,  and  gave  direction  to 
his  aims.  The  young  man  was  fortunate  in  his  acquaint- 
anceships, for  Hensler  of  Kiel,  Rist  and  Schimmehnann,  all 
were  drawn  to  him,  and  did  what  they  could  to  develop  his 
faculties.  Steffens  was  an  admirer  of  the  English  literature, 
and  Shakspeare  was  the  poet  whom  he  most  desired  to 
comprehend.  He  never  was  master  of  our  language,  and 
what  he  read  of  our  literature  had  to  come  to  him  in  trans- 
lations, andjj^o  good  version  of  Shakspeare  had  then  been 
made.  After  the  verdict  which  has  been  silently  passed 
upon  Young's  Night  Thoughts,  it  is  amusing  to  see  how  he 
struggled  to  get  at  the  meaning  of  that  ponderous  and  heavy 
performance,  and  attributed  his  failure  to  the  profundity 
rather  than  to  the  real  emptiness  of  the  verbose  mass.  He 
tried  to  fathom  Sterne's  humor,  but  could  not  reach  the  bot- 
tom  of  it,  and  the  real  power  of  Tristam  Shandy  was  always 
hid  from  him.  Yet,  Stefiens  had  a  good  natural  taste  for 
the  humorous,  and  a  light  play  of  mirth  tinged  the  most  of 
his  ordinary  conversation.  His  leading  quality,  however, 
was  his  vivacity,  which  was  extraordinary,  and  which  never 
died  out,  even  in  the  advanced  old  age  to  which  he  lived. 
He  was  known  as  the  "  genial  Stefiens,"  and  always  wore 
an  air  of  benignity  mingled  with  nobleness.  Rev.  Dr. 
Sprague,  of  Albany,  noticed  this,  and  alludes  to  it  in  his 


INTRODUCTION.   •  VII 

"European  Celebrities,"  where  the  countenance  of  Profes- 
sor Stefiens  is  compared  to  that  of  Dr.  Nott,  of  Union  Col- 
lege, although,  by  a  mistake  in  printing,  the  name  is  written 
Stephens,  and  might  easily  pass  without  being  recognized  as 
that  of  the  physicist  Steffens. 

The  man  whose  autobiography  is  given  in  the  following 
pages  has  been  brought  a  number  of  times  before  the  read- 
ing public  of  this  country  and  of  England,  but  never  ex- 
cepting in  a  brief  and  unsatisfactory  manner.  In  the  letters 
of  Humboldt,  which  were  put  in  the  possession  of  Varnha- 
gen  von  Ense,  and  published  by  Ludmilla  Assing,  a  year  or 
two  since,  is  one  from  the  king  of  Denmark  to  Humboldt,  in 
which  his  majesty  expresses  himself  in  terms  of  great  pride 
in  the  reput^ion  of  the  Danish  professor  resident  in  Berlin, 
though  Humboldt  indulges  in  one  of  those  ungenerous  flings 
at  Stefiens,  so  many  of  which  are  found  in  that  unfortunate 
book,  and  which  have  done  so  much  to  tarnish  the  fair  fame 
of  him  whom  we  hardly  invested  with  the  ordinary  weak- 
nesses of  humanity. 

But  the  most  emphatic  testimony  to  the  value  of  Steffens's 
scientific  career  is  to  be  found  in  a  book  of  wide  reputation, 
Guyot's  "  Earth  and  Man."  He  not  only  refers  in  the  body 
of  that  work  to  Stefiens,  but  in  the  preface  he  alludes  to  him 
and  to  Bitter  as  the  two  men  to  whom  he  was  the  most  in- 
debted for  the  interest  which  he  has  displayed  in  Physical 


VIII  ^INTRODUCTION. 

Geography,  and  the  scientific  training  which  has  directed  all 
his  researches  in  this  new  branch  of  knowledge.  I  read  that 
passage  in  Guyot's  work  years  ago,  just  after  its  publication, 
and  while  I  was  a  student  at  Cambridge.  I  knew  nothing 
of  Ritter  and  nothing  of  StefFens,  but  the  enthusiastic  devo- 
tion of  their  interpreter  to  their  genius  kindled  an  interest  in 
my  own  mind  which  led,  after  the  lapse  of  five  years,  to  my 
enrolling  myself  as  a  pupil  of  Ritter,  at  Berlin,  and  to  the 
translating,  still  five  years  later,  a  selection  ^  from  the  volu- 
minous works  of  the  former,  and  the  preparation  of  the  work 
now  before  my  readers. 

The  autobiography  of  Stefiens,  written  in  his  old  age,  and 
called  Was  ich  erlebte,  or  The  Story  of  my  Life,  and  pub- 
lished in  Breslau  some  years  since,  is  very  voluminous  and 
difiuse.  Indeed,  it  would  be  perfectly  correct  to  say  that  it 
is  tedious  to  a  degree.  It  would  be  so  to  a  German,  it  is 
doubly  so  to  an  American  or  an  Englishman.  It  is  in  ten 
volumes,  and  covers  four  thousand  pages.  It  is  dictated  in 
all  the  garrulousness  of  old  age.  It  is  not  written  with  a 
discriminating  appreciation  of  what  men  wish  to  know,  and 
the  story  of  his  childhood,  and  the  accounts  of  his  relatives 
and  of  his  college  fi:iends,  are  just  as  full  as  the  allusions  to 

1  Geographical  Studies.  From  the  German  of  Professor  Carl  Rit- 
ter.    Boston;   Gould  and  Lincoln.    (In  press.) 


INTRODUCTION-.  IX 

the  great  men  and  the  great  events  of  his  time.  It  made 
my  task,  as  a  whole,  easier,  for  it  made  the  labor  of  reject- 
ing the  useless  parts  a  light  one,  and  only  subjected  me  to 
the  pains  of  wading  through  thousands  of  trifling  and  worth- 
less pages.  Yet  there  were  more  than  "  the  four  grains  in 
two  bushels  of  chaff,"  and  when  I  had  found  them,  unlike 
the  ideas  of  Gratiano,  they  were  worth  the  search.  Steffens's 
vivacity  is  reproduced  in  the  pages  of  his  autobiography,  and 
perhaps  nowhere  in  the  rich  treasury  of  German  literary  me- 
moirs is  to  be  found  a  gallery  of  portraits  so'graphic  and  yet 
so  faithful  as  that  which  is  opened  in  this  work  to  American 
readers. 

I  have  passed  over  the  first  three  volumes  without  draw- 
ing a  word  from  them,  excepting  the  facts  which  are  stated 
in  the  first  pages  of  this  Introduction.  The  life  of  Steffens 
begins  to  be  interesting  when,  at  the  age  of  twenty-five,  and 
provided  by  Count  Schimmelmann,  so  well  and  favorably 
known  fi-om  the  letters  of  Niebuhr,  with  a  stipend  fi:om  the 
Danish  treasury  to  defi:ay  his  travelling  expenses,  the  young 
philosopher  enters  Germany,  the  fiiture  theatre  of  his  career. 
Schimmelmann  was  then  minister  of  finance  in  Denmark, 
and  Steffens  had  already  gained  his  favor,  and  was  about  to 
enter  upon  the  enjoyment  of  it.  With  the  opening  of  the 
fourth  volume,  where  Steffens  is  seen  passing  into  Germany, 
my  real  task  of  collating  and  translating  begins. 


X  INTRODUCTION. 

In  executing  this  work  I  have  tried  to  reproduce  the  easy, 
flowing  style  in  which  Steffens  wrote,  and  to  draw  out  those 
passages,  and  those  only,  which  I  have  judged  would  most 
interest  cultivated  readers  who  take  an  interest  in  the  men 
and  in  the  literature  of  Germany.  The  ninth  and  tenth 
chapters,  on  Steffens's  Military  Career,  I  find  already  trans- 
lated,  and  so  incorporate  at  second  hand. 

W.  L.  G. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

STEFFENS  ENTERS  GERMANY  —  JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  HARTZ  — 
FOOT  JOURNEY  TO  JENA  — ERFURT  AND  ITS  ATTRACTIVE  LADIES 
—  JENA  — LIFE  IN  JENA— STUDENT  LIFE  IN  JENA  — FOOT  JOUR- 
NEY THROUGH  THE  THURINGIAN  FOREST  — FIRST  EXPERIENCE 
IN  BUYING  A  HORSE  — ASPECTS  OF  GERMAN  CHARACTER  — THE 
LIFE  OF  GERMAN  MINERS  —  KANT,  FICHTE  AND  SCHELLING  — 
FICHTE'S  METAPHYSICS  —  RETURN   TO  JENA 15 


CHAPTER   II. 


FIRST  VIEW  OF  SCHELLING  —  FICHTE  IN  THE  LECTURE-ROOM  — 
LIFE  IN  JENA  IN  ITS  GOLDEN  TIME  —  SCHELLING  —  INTERVIEW 
WITH  GOETHE  — STEFFENS'S  VISIT  TO  GOETHE  —  SCHILLER  COM- 
PARED WITH  GOETHE  — FIRST  REPRESENTATION  OF  SCHILLER'S 
WALLENSTEIN -^ STEFFENS'S  JUDGMENT  OF  WALLENSTEIN— UNI- 
TY AMONG  THE  SCHOLARS  OF  JENA  —  STEFFENS'S  LOVE  OF  THE 
FINE  ARTS  —  JACOBI'S  FAMOUS  LETTER  —  SPIRIT  OF  CRITICISM 
AT   JBNA 30 

ZI 


XII  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    III. 

WANT  OF  ATTRACTIONS  IN  BERLIN  —  INCIDENT  FROM  FICHTE'S 
LIFE  — HIS  UNSWERVING  ADVOCACY  OF  TRUTH— FICHTE  DRIVEN 
FROM  JENA  — HIS  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  USE  OF  HIS  SYSTEM  — CAR- 
DINAL POINTS  OF  FICHTE'S  PHILOSOPHY  — HIS  ALLEGED  ATHE- 
ISM—JOURNEY TO  FREIBERG  — SECOND  RECEPTION  BY  GOETHE 
—  INTERVIEW  WITH  MALTE  BRUN  —  GLOOMY  ENTRANCE  INTO 
HALLE  — MORE  FAVORABLE  IMPRESSIONS  — REICHARDT,  THE  MU- 
SICAL COMPOSER 58 


CHAPTER    IV. 


STEFFENS'S  FIRST  VISIT  TO  BERLIN  —  BERLIN  —  MEETS  TIECK  — 
STEFFENS  IN  A  STRAIT  PLACE  — FREIBERG  — WERNER,  THE  MIN- 
ERALOGIST—LIFE AT  FREIBERG  —  VISITS  DRESDEN  — THE  GAL- 
LERY AT  DRESDEN  —  FREEDOM  OF  LIFE  AT  FREIBERG  —  STEF- 
FENS'S MANNER  WITH  OPPONENTS  — REFLECTIONS  ON  ART  — OLD 
GERMAN  POETRY  —  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  •VOLTAIC  PILE  —  STEF- 
FENS'a  FIRST   BOOK 74 


CHAPTER    V. 


FREDERICK  SCHLEGEL  —  WIT  AND  WITTY  MEN  —  GOETHE'S  COM- 
PREHENSIVENESS —  NOVALIS  —  STEFFENS'S  HUMILIATION  —  HIS 
ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  TIECK  —  EXPERUVIENTAL  PHILOSOPHY  — 
RETURN  TO  DENMARK  —  LEAVING  GERIVIANY  —  COPENHAGEN — 
KIND  RECEPTION  —  GOETHE'S  INVITATION  —  STEFFENS  COMMEN- 
CES A  COURSE  OF  LECTURES  — HIS  MARRIAGE  —  MARRIED  LIFE 
AND   DESPERATE   CIRCUMSTANCES  —  BETTER   PROSPECTS.  ...  103 


CONTENTS.  XIII 

CHAPTER    VI. 

RETIHIN  TO  HALLE  —  COaDIENCES  HOUSEKEEPING  —  DARK  PROS- 
PECTS --  SCHLEIERMACHER  —  LIFE  AS  PROFESSOR  AT  HALLE  — 
FICHTE  —  JOHANNES  VON  MULLER  —  ALEX.  VON  HIDIBOLDT — 
POLITICAL  ASPECTS  — WARLIKE  APPEARANCES  —  EXCITED  FEEL- 
ING IN  HALLE  — THE  SEIZING  OF  THE  CITY  BY  THE  FRENCH 
—  NAPOLEON  AT  HALLE  —  THE  UNIVERSITY  BROKEN  UP  BY 
NAPOLEON  —  SAD    DAYS  —  UNSETTLED   LIFE 132 


CHAPTER    VII.. 

RETURNS  TO  HALLE  —  DISCOURAGING  REOPENING  OF  THE  UNI- 
VERSITY —  PATRIOTISM  OF  THE  PROFESSORS  —  KING  JEROME 
BONAPARTE'S  VISIT  TO  HALLE  —  INTERVIEW  WITH  JOHANNES 
VON  MCLLER  —  SHATTERED  CONDITION  OF  GER:VIANY  —  GALL, 
THE  FOUNDER  OF  PHRENOLOGY  —  GOETHE  AND  GALL  — GALL'S 
PHRENOLOGICAL  LECTURE  AT  HALLE  —  SCHELLING  —  ACHIM  VON 
ARNIM  —  WILLIAM  GRIM^I,  THE  PHILOLOGIST  —  FOUNDING  OP 
THE  UNIVERSITY  AT  BERLIN  —  STEFFENS'S  VIEWS  OF  NATURAL 
SCIENCE  —  LAST   TRIALS  AT   HALLE 1C5 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

CALL  TO  BRESLAU  — TRIP  TO  JENA  AND  BERLIN  —  NAPOLEON'S 
RECEPTION  AT  WEIMAR  — GOETHE  — DINNER  AT  GOETHE'S  — HIS 
ONSLAUGHT  AT  DINNER  —  SCHLEIERMACHER  AS  PROFESSOR  AT 
BERLIN  —  THE  FACULTY  AT  BERLIN  —  BOECKH,  BEKKER,  NIE- 
BUHR  —  GATHERINGS  OF  BERLIN  SA VANS  —  ARRIVAL  AT  BRES- 
LAU —  STEFFENS'S  LOVE  OF  GERMANY  —  COMMENCEMENT  OF 
PROFESSORSHIP   AT    BRESLAU 188 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER    IX. 

STEPFENS'S  MILITARY  CAREER. —  DARK  POLITICAL  PROS- 
PECTS—GENERAL GNEISENAU  —  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT  —  STIR  IN 
BRESLAU  —  SCENE  IN  STEFFENS'S  LECTURE-ROOM  —  HIS  LETTER 
FROM  THE  KING  — THE  PHILOSOPHER  BECOMES  LIEUTENANT  — 
STEIN  — BLtJCHER 207 


CHAPTER    X. 

STEFFENS'S  MILITARY  CAREER.  — MY  FIRST  SIGHT  OF 
WAR  — "MY  KINGDOM  FOR  A  HORSE  "  — GNEISENAU 'S  COURAGE 
AT  GROSS-GORSCHEN  —  SCHARNHORST  MORTALLY  WOUNDED  — 
BATTLE  OF  LEIPZIG  —  STEFFENS'S  RESIGNATION  AND  RETURN 
TO    BRESLAU 240 


CHAPTER    XI. 

LABORS  IN  BRESLAU  —  AVERSION  OF  NATURALISTS  TO  METAPHYS- 
ICS —  NEANDER  —  PLATONIC  ATTACHMENTS  —  JACOBI  —  FRANTZ 
BAADER— STEFFENS'S  PROFESSIONAL  LIFE  AT  BRESLAU  —  RAHEL, 
WIFE  OF  VARNHAGEN  VON  ENSE  — BETTINA  VON  ARMIN  — DE  LA 
MOTTE  FOUQU]&  —  STEFFENS'S  RELIGIOUS  FAITH  —  THEOLOGICAL 
INQUIRIES  —  TRANSFER  TO  BERLIN  —  CONCLUSION 264 


THE 


STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 


CHAPTER   I. 

8TEFFENS  ENTERS  GERMANY  —  JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  HARTZ — 
FOOT  JOURNEY  TO  JENA  — ERFURT  AND  ITS  ATTRACTIVE  LADIES 
—  JENA  — LIFE  IN  JENA— STUDENT  LIFE  IN  JENA  — FOOT  JOUR- 
NEY THROUGH  THE  THURINGIAN  FOREST  — FIRST  EXPERIENCE 
IN  BUYING  A  HORSE  —  ASPECTS  OF  GERMAN  CHARACTER  — THE 
LIFE  OF  GERMAN  MINERS  —  KANT,  FICHTE  AND  SCHELLING — 
FICHTE'S  METAPHYSICS  —  RETURN  TO  JENA. 

• 

My  long-cherished  wish  now  approached  its  ful- 
filment, and  Europe  lay  before  me.  Yet,  while 
every  country  in  it  was  attractive  to  me,  Germany 
was  the  one  nearest  to  my  heart  and  claimed  my 
first  attention.  Free  from  care,  happy  and  full  of 
hope,  I  was  now  in  a  condition  to  turn  my  steps 
whichever  way  I  would.  As  a  naturalist,  or  rather 
as  a  mineralogist,  I  had  received  a  certain  sum  for 
travelling  expenses  from  my  government,  but  a 
deep  and  real  interest  in  my  scientific  pursuits  filled 
me.  Philosophical  speculation  was  not  what  would 
be  called  my  specialty ;  I  would  not  be  a  stranger 

to  this  department,  but  it  did  not  meet  all  the  de- 
ls 


16  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

mands  of  my  being.  I  had  a  kind  of  premonition 
of  the  nature  of  the  epoch  which  was  just  opening 
in  all  directions.  I  saw  old  authorities  losing  their 
value,  and  I  comprehended  quite  well  that  on  one 
side  Goethe  and  on  the  other  Philosophy  were  set- 
ting all  the  scientific  elements  into  a  ferment.  I 
saw  that  I  must  be  a  man  of  the  new  time  just 
opening.  I  had  attempted  much,  and  in  almost  all 
departments  of  human  knowledge  Fhad  sought  to 
attain  clear  views.  What  Spinoza  had  been  to  me 
I  have  already  stated,  —  the  casket  which  contained 
all  the  riches  that  the  future  seemed  to  hold  in  store 
for  me.  Fichte  had  taught  me  that  the  glory  of 
man's  self-determining  will  finds  its  only  worthy 
equipoise,  and,  indeed,  its  more  than  equivalent,  in 
,  the  inward  activity  of  the  mind  itself.  But  it  was 
\  to  be  Schelling  who  should  transfer  me  to  a  new 
;  stand-j)oint,  one  which  should  give  an  interpreta- 
tion to  the  whole  previous  course  of  my  life  from 
childhood  up.  A  new  existence  seemed  to  be  open- 
ing to  me,  and  I  addressed  myself  to  the  task  of 
grouping  what  is  deepest  and  noblest  in  knowledge, 
and  of  comprehending  the  harmony  which  exists 
between  all  the  conflicting  elements  of  nature.  But, 
full  of  joy  as  this  rich  future  made  me,  it  did  not 
hinder  me  from  giving  myself  unreservedly  to  the 
delight  of  the  present. 

It  is  not  easy  to  conceive  how  imposing  to  the 
eye  of  a  North  European  are  the  mental  conflicts 
which  are  going  forward  in  the  heart  of  the  conti- 
nent. The  distant  murmurs  have  an  enchanting 
tone  in  his  ear,  and  every  name  which  comes  to 


STEFFENS  ENTERS  GERMANY.  17 

him  seems  surrounded  with  a  halo  of  glory.  The 
petty  animosities,  the  literary  and  scientific  squab- 
bles, are  lost  in  the  great  whole,  and  the  scholars  of 
Europe  are  elevated  in  his  eyes  into  high-priests  of 
knowledge.  A  cultivated  German  can  hardly  visit 
Italy  or  Greece  or  the  East  with  more  interest  than 
I  felt  in  approaching  Germany.  What  they  seek  is 
a  dead  Past,  which  must  be  strange  and  distant 
even  were  they  to  live  in  its  very  midst.  I  was 
looking:  for  a  orjorious  Future  in  which  I  misfht  live 
and  have  a  share,  —  a  future  which  should  absorb 
the  entire  activities  of  my  nature.  It  would  kindle 
my  every  power,  and  unfold  to  me,  as  to  the  world, 
a  new  and  bright  era. 

As  we  approached  Brunswick,  and  the  beautiful 
environs  of  the  city  began  to  appear,  I  tried  to 
descry  away  beyond  the  buildings  the  outlines  of 
the  Hartz  Mountains.  My  longing  for  mountainous 
scenery  had  been  much  increased  by  my  recent  so- 
journ in  Norway.  We  stopped  at  the  Blue  Angel 
Inn,  which  had  pleasant  associations  for  me  in  con- 
nection with  the  author  Knigge.  But  when  we  left 
Brunswick,  as  we  journeyed  in  the  fairest  weather 
and  through  the  most  delightful  scenery,  and  in  the 
neighborhood  discerned  Wolfenbiittel,  and  later  the 
towers  of  Halberstadt,  and  soon  after  passed  Qued- 
linburg,  which,  although  it  did  not  come  in  sight,  yet 
was  not  far  away,  well-known  names  and  old  recol- 
lections came  thronging  in  upon  me,  and  a  bright 
sun  within  me  seemed  to  emulate  the  outer  one  in 
giving  a  charm  to  the  whole  landscape.  All  the 
chords  of  my  being  resounded  in  harmony.     Les- 


18  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

sing  had  lived  in  Wolfenbiittel,  and  Gleim's  house 
at  Halberstadt  had  been  a  favorite  resort  of  almost 
all  the  leading  poets  of  the  time.  Gotze  hatl  lived 
his  busy,  calm,  retired,  naturalist's  life  in  Quedlin- 
burg,  and  his  name  brought  a  charm  of  nameless 
but  real  interest  upon  the  whole  village.  I  saw  Les- 
sing  in  his  library,  revolving  great  thoughts  on  the 
past,  and  at  last  giving  expression  to  them  with  his 
matchless  skill.  And  from  Halberstadt  rung  out 
the  songs  like  those  which  once  sounded  from  the 
Wartburg.  Gotze,  and  with  him  Rosel,  Gleichen, 
Schofer,  strode  through  the  fields,  lost  themselves 
in  the  forests,  made  observations  in  the  gardens, 
while  the  blossoms  reached  out  to  them  as  to  old 
friends,  and  the  cheerful  insects  seemed  to  leap 
from  the  grass  to  bid  them  welcome.  Thus  was 
the  whole  district  peopled  to  my  imagination,  and 
almost  seemed  to  me  like  classic  ground.  In  this 
happy  frame  of  mind,  in  which  everything  outward 
as  well  as  inward  united  to  make  me  cheerful,  I 
passed  a  day  never  to  be  forgotten.  It  was  about 
midnight,  dark  and  late,  when  we  arrived  at  Blank- 
enburg.  • 

The  Hartz  Mountains,  through  whose  northern 
spurs  we  were  now  passing,  I  have  since  traversed 
many  times  in  all  directions ;  and  there  are  so  many 
pleasant  associations  connected  with  those  journey- 
ings,  that  the  Hartz  Mountains,  small  as  they  are, 
fill  quite  a  prominent  place  in  my  life.  They  have 
had  to  serve  me  as  an  example  of  mountain  chains 
in  general,  and  from  them  I  have  been  compelled  to 
draw  most  of  my  geognostical  theories  and  illustra- 


JOURNEY  THROUGH  THE  HARTZ.  19 

tions.  The  spurs  towards  the  north,  east,  and 
south,  are  indeed  charming,  often  imposing. 

I  think  with  delight  on  that  fair  summer's  day 
when  we  wandered  on  foot  through  the  woods  at 
the  base  of  the  Hartz,  discovered  Wernigerode  and 
the  bold  Castle  of  the  Mountain,  visited  the  steep 
rgcks  in  the  Ilsethal,  and  climbed  the  next  day  to 
the  ruins  of  Hartzburg.  All  was  beautiful ;  man, 
landscape,  sunshine,  air,  forest,  and  mountains,  com- 
bined to  throw  us  into  the  happiest  of  moods.^We 
had  been  told  that  the  way  to  the  Brocken  through 
the  Ilsethal  was  the  most  difficult,  and  so  we  se- 
lected  it  for  that  very  reason;  but  what  its  diffi- 
culties were  we  never  could  discover.  Ascending 
by  this  route,  the  Brocken  in  its  solitude  had  a  look 
which  was  really  imposing.  We  spent  the  night  in 
a  mean  little  hut  on  Heinrichshohe,  and  in  the  twi- 
light the  Brocken  reminded  me  somewhat  of  the 
Norway  mountains,  yet  the  German  landscape  was 
so  lovely  that  the  diffijrence  in  favor  of  the  Hartz 
scenery  was  immense.  That  night  was  to  me  one 
of  perfect  delight.  My  companion  was  a  dear 
frien*  a  thorough  proficient  in  botany,  and  so  I 
had  in  his  accurate  knowledge  a  source  of  happiness 
which  I  had  not  enjoyed  when  journeying  through 
my  own  country,  and  obliged  to  depend  wholly 
upon  my  own  attainments. 

The  view  of  the  Hartz  from  the  Brocken  is  in  no 
way  imposing.  The  neighboring  heights  have  no 
attractive  features ;  it  is  only  the  distant  prospect 
and  the  general  harmony  of  the  whole  picture  that 
give  it  its  Tame.     Nine  times  I  have  ascended  the 


20  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Brocken  from  different  directions.  Once  I  had  the 
good  fortune  to  see  the  famous  Spectre  from  the 
Tower  of  the  Brocken  House.  I  have  often  admired 
the  shadows  which  jDlayed  over  the  level  land  at 
the  base,  w^hen  the  sun  went  down,  as  one  of  the 
most  attractive  features  of  the  landscape.  But  at 
evening  there  arises  almost  always  a  mist  which  0I3- 
scures  everything.  Yet  at  my  first  visit  the  atmos- 
phere was  entirely  clear.  The  shadows  extended 
eastHird  as  far  as  the  horizon,  and  even  prolonged 
themselves  into  the  distant  sky,  so  that  the  summit 
of  the  mountain,  the  Brocken  House,  the  Tower, 
and  we,  the  wondering  observers,  swam  as  shadows 
in  the  air. 

The  ancient  solitude  of  the  Hartz  has  wholly 
passed  away.  For  the  witches  there  no  longer  re- 
mains a  place.  Ladies  and  gentlemen  riding,  trav- 
ellers of  all  kinds,  from  a  distance  as  well  as  from 
the  neighborhood,  singing  journeymen  and  shout- 
ing students,  met  us  whenever  we  turned  in  to  visit 
shaded  dells  and  desolate  ravines.  Where  we  ex- 
pected the  spirits  of  the  mountains,  we  encountered 
servant-girls,  and  the  throng  of  people  thre^ned 
to  wear  smooth  even  the  craggy  heights  themselves. 

And  yet  I  must  confess  that  even  this  cheerful 
gathering-place  of  so  many,  who  all  feel  happy,  has 
its  own  peculiar  charm.  Even  nature  seems  subor- 
dinate to  life,  when  mountain  chains  share  a  part  in 
the  merriment  of  men.  Where  T  had  seen  them  in 
the  cold  North,  they  commune  silently  among  them- 
selves, and  the  human  voice  is  lost  in  their  oppres- 
sive stillness.  • 


FOOT  JOURNEY  TO  JENA.  21 

When  we  came  back  to  Blankenburg  I  could  not 
repress  the  clesh*e  to  go  alone  and  on  foot  to  Jena. 
I  took  a  shirt  in  one  pocket,  a  map  in  the  other ; 
even  the  thought  that  I  might  lose  my  way  had 
something  attractive  for  me.  My  outside  garment 
was  a  light  kerseymere  overcoat.  In  my  hand  I 
carried  a  long,  clay  pipe.  So,  towards  evening,  with- 
out having  wandered  at  all  out  of  my  way,  I  came 
to  Stolberg.  I  stepped  into  a  tavern,  which  seemed 
fitted  up  for  travellers  by  the  coach.  The  landlady 
received  me  rather  coolly,  and  when  I  asked  for 
some  supper  she  gave  me  a  seat  in  the  corner  of 
the  room,  and  placed  before  me  some  tripe  soup. 
This  whole  proceeding  seemed  singular,  and  threw 
me  into  great  perplexity  how  to  act.  I  thought  of 
the  Norwegian  peasants,  who  would  have  consid- 
ered an  unwillingness  to  partake  of  food  that  they, 
might  offer  a  personal  offence  to  themselves,  and  yet, 
hungry  as  I  was,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  taste 
of  the  vile  dish.  The  landlady  noticed  my  perplex- 
ity ;  but,  instead  of  feeling  hurt,  she  began  to  look 
upon  me  with  new  favor.  "Ah,"  said  she,  "the 
gentleman  is  probably  not  used  to  such  fare."  I 
then  received  somethimx  better.  The  best  chamber 
in  the  house  was  put  at  my  disposal,  and  I  enjoyed 
the  luxury  of  a  perfectly  clean  bed.  On  the  next 
day,  I  passed  through  the  whole  of  the  charming 
valley  to  Rottleberode,  and  that  walk  remains  in  my  / 
memory  as  one  of  the  pleasantest  I  ever  enjoyed.  ' 
I  wholly  forgot  that  I  was  on  a  journey.  I  spent  a 
great  part  of  the  day  in  the  valley.  I  lived  over 
again  the  days  of  my  childhood.     I  stiidied  all  the 


22  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

flowers  I  met,  and  was  even  pleased  to  fall  in  with 
new  ones  which  reminded  me  that  I  was  no  long- 
er in  my  native  land.  I  pursued  dragan-flies  and 
linnets,  or  rested  by  the  side  of  a  swiftly-running, 
shaded  brook.  I  could  scarcely  tear  myself  from 
the  valley;  steep  banks  on  both  sides  shut  it  closely 
in.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  one  of  the  fair  landscapes 
of  Denmark  lay  before  me,  with  its  back-ground  of 
Scandinavian  mountains. 

The  rest  of  the  journey  I  do  not  remember  so 
well.  Sonderhausen,  where  I  spent  a  night,  seemed 
a  pleasant  village ;  Erfurt  I  distinctly  remember. 
I  stopped  at  the  "Roman  Emperor;"  and  at  this 
house,  as  elsewhere  on  the  whole  journey,  I  was  re- 
ceived without  the  exhibition  of  a  prying  curiosity. 
This  fine  old  German  town  made  a  very  agreeable 
impression  upon  me.  I  visited  the  great  bell  in 
Dalberg's  palace. 

I  do  not  know  whether  Erfurt  is  really  celebrated 
for  pretty  girls  ;  I  only  know  that  the  matrons  and 
the  maidens  whom  I  saw  were  charming.  I  had 
had  enough  of  foot-journeying,  and  was  going  to 
take  the  stage-coach  to  Weimar.  Having  nothing 
to  do,  I  looked  out  upon  the  square  in  front  of  the 
hotel.  By  good  fortune  I  saw  three  or  four  ladies 
of  the  burgher  class,  who  attracted  my  attention 
by  their  genteel  figures,  fair  skins,  and  fine  fea- 
tures. The  costume  of  the  Saxon  ladies,  the  mantle 
lightly  thrown  over  the  shoulders,  and  the  graceful 
caps,  may  have  contributed  to  render  them  attrac- 
tive in  my  sight.  I  turned  to  the  landlord  and  can- 
celled my  order  for  the  stage,  and  declared  that  I 


ERFURT— ITS  ATTRACTIVE  LADIES.  23 

would  spend  some  days  in  Erfurt,  taking  no  pains  to 
conceal  my  reason.  He  smiled,  and  when  I  asked 
him  if  he  would  not  introduce  me  during  my  stay 
to  some  families  where  these  angels  lived,  he  prom- 
ised his  kind  help.  In  the  afternoon  he  took  me  to 
a  garden,  and  introduced  me  to  some  families,  who 
were  drinking  tea  there,  as  a  Norwegian.  I  had 
expressly  stipulated  that  these  should  be  none  of 
the  learned  classes,  for  on  this  journey  I  would  bid 
a  temporary  adieu  to  all  learning. 

Here  I  at  first  experienced  an  advantage  which 
has  since  stood  me  in  great  service  when  intro- 
duced to  strangers.  It  has  always  been  a  whim  of 
mine  never  to  take  letters  of  introduction  with 
me.  When  I  went  to  Germany  I  had  none,  and 
I  was  foolish  enough  to  believe  that  my  own  bear- 
ing would  be  my  best  passport.  But  I  soon  found 
that  what  called  attention  to  me  was  not  my  bear- 
ing, but  my  birthplace.  Even  at  the  hotel  the  land- 
lord looked  at  rae  with  great  astonishment  when  I 
announced  myself  as  a  Norwegian.  And  in  the 
families,  too,  the  same  cause  procured  me  much  con- 
sideration. People  had  fanciful  conceptions  of  my 
native  land  in  the  remote  North.  Norway  was  then 
little  visited ;  it  lay  on  one  side  of  the  great  course 
of  travel,  and  a  journey  thither  was  regarded  in 
almost  the  same  light  as  one  to  the  coasts  of  Asia 
or  Africa.  And  so  here  in  Eifurt  my  foreign  ex- 
traction awakened  much  interest.  My  faint  and  in- 
distinct pronunciation  and  abundant  errors  in  Ger- 
man were  a  source   of  great   amusement.     Many 


24  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAIiEER. 

agreeable  clays  I  passed  in  Erfurt,  and  then  in  tho 
happiest  of  moods  took  the  coach  for  Jena. 

So  in  this  place  I  had  arrived  at  last,  and  what 
had  driven  me  thither  was  so  clear  in  my  mind  that 
Jena  almost  seemed  the  goal  of  my  journey.  I  in- 
deed remembered  that  in  my  own  country  I  was 
regarded  as  a  mineralogist,  and  that  it  was  expected 
of  me  that  I  should  hasten  directly  to  Freiberg  to 
study  in  the  famous  school  of  mineralogy,  of  which 
Werner  was  then  at  the  head.  But  it  would  have 
y^been  impossible  for  me  to  pass  by  the  real  centre  of 
\  intellectual  life  in  Germany.  The  little  city  of  Jena 
in  its  lovely  valley  was  very  attractive,  and  after  a 
few  days  I  felt  quite  at  home. 

I  did  not,  indeed,  intend  to  spend  the  summer 
months  before  me  in  Jena.  I  reserved  these  for  a 
geological  tour  in  the  Thuringian  forest,  and  what 
drew  me  specially  in  that  direction  was  Heim's  work 
upon  the  mineralogy  of  that  district,  which  would 
serve  me  as  an  instructive  companion  at  every  step. 
I  was  not  one  of  those  young  men  who  have  the 
boldness  to  crowd  themselves  without  any  reserve 
upon  distinguished  scholars.  To  visit  Goethe,  in 
Weimar,  did  not  occur  to  me,  interesting  as  it  would 
have  been  to  have  approached  him.  I  left  it  to 
time  and  to  circumstances,  and  reckoned  safely  upon 
these  that  they  would  ultimately  bring  me  into  con- 
tact with  him.  I  had  already  heard  that  Schelling 
had  received  a  .call  to  Jena  as  Professor  Extraordi- 
narius.  His  arrival  was  expected  in  the  autumn. 
I  alighted  at  the  Black  Bear,  and  on  the  evening 


STUDENT  LIFE  IN  JENA.  25 

of  ray  an'ival  I  experienced  a  touch  of  the  exceed- 
ing roughness  of  t1|p  Jena  students. 

A  city  in  which  one  proposes  to  tarry  for  a  little 
while,  and  which  may  even  have  some  relation  to 
our  future  career,  has  a  certain  impressive  aspect  at 
the  outset.  It  seems  to  inclose  even  the  secret  of 
our  destiny.  At  the  hotel  I  found  my  friend,  who 
had  arrived  some  days  before  me.  He  found  a  great 
deal  of  fault  with  the  bad  fare,  which  in  truth  for  us 
men  of  the  North,  who  were  used  to  hearty  and 
nourishing  food,  seemed  execrable.  We  entertained 
each  other  with  much  lively  talk,  for  we  had  been 
separated  some  time,  and  had  enough  to  tell  of.  It 
grew  dark.  I  looked  out  into  the  neighborhood  so 
strange  to  me,  and  a  restless  suspicion  of  what  was 
to  come  ran  through  my  mind.  Then  we  heard  in 
the  distance  a  loud  shouting  like  the  voices  of  a 
number  of  men,  and  nearer  and  nearer  they  seemed 
to  come.  Lights  bad  been  brought  shortly  before, 
and,  as  the  uproar  was  close  upon  us,  a  servant 
burst  in  to  warn  us  to  extinguish  them.  We  asked, 
with  curiosity,  why,  and  what  the  shouting  mob 
wanted.  We  suspected,  indeed,  that  it  was  stu- 
dents. The  servant  told  us  that  they  were  on  their 
way  to  the  house  of  Professor  A.,  who  was  unpop- 
ular with  them,  —  I  know  not  why,  —  to  salute  him 
with  their  Pereat,  or  college  damnation.  The  cry 
of  some  hundred  students  grew  plainer  and  plainer. 
"Out  with  lights"  was  called,  and  just  then  we 
heard  the  panes  of  glass  clatter,  when  the  warning 
was  not  quickly  enough  complied  with.  I  confess 
that  this  circumstance,  occurring  so  60on  after  my 


26  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

arrival,  filled  me  with  a  kind  of  gloom.  It  was  not 
such  things  as  this  that  hadjpalled  me  to  Jena; 
these  were  not  the  voices  which  I  wished  and  ex- 
pected to  hear,  and  my  first  night  was  a  sad  one. 

I  had  the  caprice  to  try  to  live  as  frugally  as  a 
Jena  student,  and  made  a  week's  experiment  of  it. 
But  I  lost  flesh  visibly.  The  landlord  understood 
the  art  of  treating  the  flesh  of  an  old  ox  or  ram 
with  such  exquisite  skill  that  all  the  flavor  of  the 
meat  disappeared,  and  only  the  woody  fibre  re- 
mained. As  I  could  not  drink,  like  a  true  German 
student,  eight  or  nine  bottles  of  lager  every  day, 
I  grew  very  hungry,  and  had  to  provide  for  myself. 
Yet  I  did  not  give  up  my  purpose  of  studying  criti- 
cally German  student  life.  In  Dorndorf  there  was 
a|)pointed  a  great  commerce  or  carouse.  Hundreds 
of  students  collected  themselves  in  the  halls  of  the 
hotel,  arrayed  in  their  well-known  bizarre  costume. 
I  mingled  among  them.  Some  even  of  the  wildest 
came  up  to  me  and  asked  me  to  drink  brotherhood 
with  them.  I  did  not  tarry  long.  It  was  a  pleasant 
day,  the  country  was  charming ;  I  took  a  long  walk 
to  Hamburg,  and  when  I  returned  to  Dorndorf  the 
commerce  was  in  full  glow.  I  heard  the  frightful 
shouting,  the  wild  revelry,  and  hurried  on  with  a 
kind  of  horror.  I  had  reason  afterwards  to  rue  this 
first  visit.  The  very  next  day  I  was  waited  upon 
by  some  wild  Westphalians  in  leather  trousers,  short 
jackets,  and  cannon-like  boots,  in  the  right  one  of 
which  was  the  handkerchief,  in  the  left  the  pipe, 
while  a  tobacco-pouch  hung  at  a  button-hole  ;  these 
were  my  brothers  of  yesterday.     They  filled  their 


THROUGH  THE  THURINGIAN  FOREST.  27 

pipes  with  their  vile  tobacco,  threw  themselves  upon 
the  sofa,  and  called  for  beer.  Their  visit  brought 
me  almost  to  despair;  they  remained  some  hours, 
and  I  had  to  feign  an  engagement  to  get  away.  I 
hastened  to  Gries,  in  order  to  recount  my  foolish  ad- 
venture and  its  unfortunate  fruits.  He  very  prop- 
erly gave  me  a  good  chiding,  and  told  me  that  I 
must  now  bear  with  patience  what  could  not  be 
obviated.  Only  one  resource  remained  to  me.  I 
left  Jena,  and  took  a  foot  journey  through  the  Thu- 
ringian  forest. 

Five  or  six  weeks  I  spent  m  this  tour,  pursuing 
the  most  of  my  journey  without  any  companion. 
There  was  some  fear  of  meeting  robbers  in  those 
times,  but  with  the  precautions  which  I  took  I  en- 
countered no  attack.  The  whole  of  m*y  journey 
was  rich  in  adventures  of  a  small  kind  ;  rich,  too,  in 
observations  of  life,  and  in  additions  to  my  knowl- 
edge. I  came  nearer  to  the  people,  and  learaed  to 
love  and  prize  them.  I  came  in  contact  with  the 
most  varied  persons,  and  chimed  in  with  the  pecu- 
liar tone  of  each.  Meanwhile  I  applied  myself 
closely  to  my  own  science.  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  structure  of  the  Thuringian  Mountains,  the 
position  of  the  strata,  and  sought  to  bring  my  ob- 
servations into  relation  with  those  which  I  had  else- 
where made.  I  did  not  seek  to  come  into  contact 
with  learned  people,  excepting  Heim,  who  could  di- 
rect my  studies ;  it  was  foref?ters  and  miners  with 
whom  I  had  to  do.  The  whole  journey  was  one  of 
enjoyment.  My  mind  was  interested  in  my  work, 
my  system  free  from  disease.     Indeed,  I  have  never 


28  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

been  in  better  health  than  when,  in  the  midst  of 
great  activity,  I  have  had  to  live  in  a  very  moderate 
way.  When  in  the  solitary  mountains  I  have  had 
nothing  more  choice  than  eggs,  sausages,  and  bacon, 
with  water  to  drink,  I  have  felt  so  thoroughly  well, 
so  elastic  in  spirit,  so  light  in  limb,  that  I  still  look 
back  with  joy  to  those  days  of  vigor  and  hearty 
sympathy  with  life.  I  was  in  love  with  the  pres- 
ent ;  and  those  dark  problems  which  I  had  left  at 
Jena  for  future  solution  looked  foggy  and  forbid- 
ding^. 

I  must  narrate  one  circumstance  which  reminds 
me  forcibly  oi  Gil  Bias.  I  found  the  constant  jour- 
neying on  foot  very  tedious,  particularly  when  I 
was  leaving  mile  after  mile  behind  me  in  passing 
through  uninteresting  districts  in  order  to  reach 
places  which  had  value  to  me.  The  most  disagreea- 
ble thing  was  the  heat  at  noon.  Fatigue,  the  warm 
sun,  often  hunger,  troubled  me  to  such  an  extent  as 
to  quite  cloud  the  pleasures  of  my  journey,  and 
make  my  occupation  seem  mean  and  forbidding. 

I  often  fell  in  with  merchants  travelling  on  horse- 
back, and  I  almost  envied  them  their  advantages. 
If  I  only  had  a  horse,  I  said  to  myself;  then  the 
heat  might  blaze  away  and  I  would  not  complain ; 
and  even  if  the  first  expense  might  be  considerable, 
yet  it  cannot  be  so  very  great  a  sum.  I  can  take 
good  care  of  my  horse,  and  then  sell  him  again. 
When  at  last  I  made  my  resolve  there  was  no  lack 
of  opp9rtUnities  to  carry  it  into  eifect.  A  Saalfeld 
mountaineer  gave  me  the  benefit  of  his  advice.  I 
found  an  admirable  horse,  and  bought  him  at  what 


FIRST  EXPERIENCE  IN  BUYING  A  HORSE.         29 

I  have  no  doubt  was  a  good  bargain.  But  now 
began  new  troubles.  When  I  alighted  at  a  country 
tavern  I  had  first  to  care  for  my  horse ;  but  that  was 
a  very  small  matter.  "  When,  after  leaving  a  number 
of  miles  behind  me,  I  reached  an  important  field  of 
observation,  I  often  had  to  leave  my  horse  for  a 
whole  day  at  a  stable,  while  I  rambled  through  the 
mountains  on  foot.  Often  it  would  have  been  con- 
venient  to  have  continued  my  wanderings  some  dis- 
tance on  these  branch  excursions,  but  round  I  mi^ 
turn'  and  traverse  again  my  old  track  because  of  my 
horse,  and  so  my  ease  cost  me  dear.  Not  seldom, 
in  my  complete  ignorance  of  such  matters,  I  over- 
worked the  poor  creature.  On  one  pleasant  sum- 
mer evening,  as  I  was  riding  leisurely  along,  want- 
ing to  enjoy  the  scenery  and  beautiful  weather, 
something  suddenly  seemed  to  ail  the  horse.  All 
my  happiness  vanished  at  oace.  I  was  full  of  anx-  • 
iety.  I  knew  nothing  of  what  was  to  be  done  in 
such  cases.  When  at  last  I  reached  a  village,  and 
the  horse  was  led  into  a  stable,  I  looked  at  it  behind 
and  before,  but  could  see  notliing,  and  went  anx- 
iously into  the  house.  Shortly  after  appeared  the 
landlord.  "On  that  horse  you  can  travel  no  further," 
said  he.  "  He  has  hurt  himself,  and  will  be  good  for 
nothing  if  you  do  not  call  in  a  horse-doctor  and  let 
him  rest  for  some  days."  My  worst  fears  were  real- 
ized, and  I  asked  the  good  man  for  advice.  "  I  can 
remain  here  under  no  conditions,"  said  I.  There- 
upon he  began  to  pour  out  a  volume  of  assurances 
that  he  would  treat  me  honorably  and  the  like ;  but 
the  next  morning  I  rode  off  on  my  sorry  nag.     I 


30  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

will  give  him  good  fare,  said  I  to  myself,  and  he  will 
soon  recover.  But  it  soon  appeared  that  the  horse 
was  really  lame.  At  last  he  stopped.  I,  an  unskil- 
ful rider,  could  not  move  him  from  the  spot.  I  was 
compelled  to  dismount,  and  not  only  to  drag  myself 
along,  but  also  my  horse.  I  thanked  God  when  an 
opportunity  occurred,  on  the  third  day,  to  sell  my 
horse  for  a  third  of  the  sum  which  I  paid  for  him. 
So  I  stood  again  on  my  own  sound  feet,  and  really 
Mt  myself  fortunate  to  be  there,  although  the  loss 
of  so  much  money  compelled  me  to  very  much 
shorten  my  tour. 

I  had  now  given  myself  for  some  time  to  the 
scenery  of  Germany,  for  which  I  had  yearned  from 
my  earliest  childhood.  I  had  hurried  through  Wei- 
mar, so  full  of  interest  to  me ;  had  found  Jena  as 
good  as  empty  for  my  purposes.  I  had  approached 
•  no  one  of  the  eminent*  men  whose  names  were  sa- 
cred in  my  ear,  but  I  had  seen  much.  I  had  entered 
upon  a  world  which  was  new  to  me.  The  winning 
openness  with  which  the  Germans  greet  strangers, 
the  confidence  Avhich  they  yield  to  them,  the  sim- 
plicity of  the  peasantry  as  they  communicate  their 
joys  and  sorrows,  and  tell  of  the  injuries  even  which 
have  been  done  to  them,  made  me  soon  feel  at  home 
among  them.  I  had  seen  them  in  many  conditions. 
I  had  become  acquainted  with  the  cities  and  vil- 
lages and  charming  landscapes  of  this  happy  land. 
Cheerful  in  my  eye  were  the  small  residences  or 
homes  of  the  minor  German  princes  Rudolstadt 
and  Meiningen,  Hildburghausen  and  Coburg,  Bam- 
bei-g  and  Wurtzburg.    The  castles,  with  their  great 


THE  LIFE  OF  GERMAN  MINERS.  31 

gardens,  and  the  houses  of  the  court  servants,  with 
their  attractive  surroundings,  had  for  me  a  most 
winning  look.  The  relation  of  the  people  to  the 
princes  was  beautiful ;  in  the  eye  of  a  foreigner 
there  was  that  mutual  confidence  and  patriarchal 
aspect  of  life  which  drew  largely  on  my  sympathies. 

But  I  had  enlarged  my  circle  of  interest  in  other 
directions,  and  especially  had  become  much  drawn  to 
the  life  of  the  minei-s,  whose  occupation  and  man- 
ners were  so  constantly  under  my  eye  as  I  pursued 
my  mineralogical  investigations.  I  soon  learned  to 
prize  their  practical  efficiency.  When,  duiing  my 
wanderings  into  the  most  lonely  districts,  the  water- 
courses were  my  guide,  and  led  me  to  a  cabin  or 
to  an  opened  mineral  vein,  where  I  had  to  creep 
through  the  narrow  passage-ways,  the  slightest  cir- 
cumstances grew  important,  and  the  structure  of 
the  mountain,  the  object  of  my  inquiries,  stood  in 
the  closest  relation  with  the  task  which  the  practi- 
cal miner  had  to  perform.  Here  I  first  learned  with 
what  difficulties  man  has  to  contend  when  he  opens 
the  earth  to  bring  forth  its  hidden  treasures ;  how 
opposing  elements  stand  in  his  way ;  how  now  the 
friable  falling  rock,  now  the  waters  streaming  up 
from  below,  can  destroy  the  work  of  many  years ; 
how  the  miner  must  watch  with  uninterrupted  anx- 
iety every  outbreak  of  those  hostile  forces  vv^ith 
which  he  battles,  in  order  to  turn  them  to  his  own 
profit,  and  make  his  adversaries  his  helpers. 

Indeed,  there  is  scarcely  any  practical  service  of 
life  which  makes  such  constant  demands  upon  judg- 
ment and  care  as  that  of  the  miner ;  and  I,  com- 


32  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

pletely  ignorant  of  this  manner  of  life,  and  looking 
at  it  for  the  first  time,  could  only  wonder  at  the  ac- 
tivity which  amidst  such  obstacles  could  work  with 
singleness  towards  its  mark.  The  man  who  busies 
himself  merely  in  his  own  chamber,  who  loses  him- 
self in  abstract  principles  of  thought,  is  only  too 
much  inclined  to  undervalue  practical  life.  From 
my  own  childhood  up  I  had  thought  of  practical 
things  as  at  a  distance.  I  had  looked  at  them  more 
in  the  light  of  poetry  and  fancy  than  reality ;  but 
now  the  most  trivial  matters  grew  interesting,  and 
I  tried  to  bring  them  into  living  relation  with  my 
previous  speculations.  I  look  back  to  those  days  as 
a  period  of  calm  enjoyment.  The  past  lay  like  a 
smiling  landscape  in  my  view;  the  present  calm, 
peaceful,  and  indescribably  attractive.  The  friendly 
attentions  paid  to  me,  the  magnificent  German  lan- 
guage which  I  was  always  hearing,  the  frankness  of 
fellow-tourists,  all  warmed  my  soul  with  kindness 
and  with  love,  caused  my  heart  to  beat  with  new 
joy,  and  made  the  future  look  bright  and  beautiful. 
As  I  wandered  along  I  thought ;  and  the  more  I 
thought  the  more  plainly  I  saw  that  the  dawn  of  a 
new  scientific  era  was  breaking,  and  that  I  must 
give  myself  wholly  to  the  next  age  rather  than  the 
past.  Kant  broke  upon  me  suddenly  as  the  repre- 
sentative man  of  the  time ;  the  limits  which  he  im- 
posed upon  the  extent  of  our  knowledge  satisfied 
me.  I  began  to  see  that  he  must  constitute  a  neces- 
sary member,  an  unavoidable  step  in  the  progress  of 
the  human  mind.  Natural  science  had  so  much  en- 
grossed me  that  I  could  not  be  unacquainted  with 


KANT.  33 

the  power  of  the  appeal  which  it  makes  to  the 
senses,  and  upon  which  it  lays  such  authoritative 
stress.  I  perceived  it  as  a  fact  that  the  Kantian 
categories  in  their  treatment  of  space  must  find 
their  perfect  expression  in  the  exact  language  of 
mathematics.  Bat  even  under  these  limitations, 
dealing  as  they  did  with  only  the  outer  realities  of 
the  world  of  sense,  that  which  they  excluded,  the 
spiritual,  was  brought  out  with  new  distinctness, 
and  the  more  determinedly  Kant  tried  to  waive  such 
problems  the  more  strongly  did  they  press  them- 
selves upon  the  consideration,  and  I  saw  very  plainly 
that  ScheUing  as  well  as  Fichte  would  pass  from 
Kant,  and  through  the  path  which  he  had  opened, 
to  a  higher  philosophy.  So  it  seemed  to  me  very 
important  to  study  him.  I  believed  that  the  un- 
satisfactoriness  of  my  studies  hitherto  lay  in  the 
fact  that  I  had  not  begun  with  him  in  laying  the 
foundations  of  my  intellectual  development.  I 
longed  for  his  writings,  I  wanted  to  enter  upon  a 
systematic  course  of  training,  and  I  was  cheered 
with  the  thought  that  things  which  were  dark  to 
me  would  be  cleared  up,  and  that  I  should  feel 
through  my  whole  future  life  the  influence  of  this 
new  philosophy.  I  longed  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  men  whom  I  should  soon  see  in  Jena. 
Fichte  had,  indeed,  been  there  some  time,  but  I  had 
purposely  shunned  meeting  him.  The  sudden  turn 
of  all  my  afiairs,  the  mass  of  new  observations  which 
I  had  made,  and  the  power  which  these  had  exerted 
upon  me,  had  thrown  my  life  into  temporary  confu- 
sion, and  I  had  not  yet  wished  to  meet  face  to  face 


34  TBE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREETl. 

the  man  whom  I  regarded  as  the  mightiest  intellect 
and  the  profoundest  speculator  of  the  age.  I  had 
wanted  to  wait  till  my  thoughts  were  again  cen- 
tred, and  my  life  ready  to  flow  in  a  new  and 
unbroken  channel. 

In  Kiel,  I  had  busied  myself  in  metaphysics,  but  I 
had  not  fully  compassed  it ;  now,  however,  I  applied 
myself  to  it  with  assiduity  and  with  an  intentness 
which  I  had  not  known  since  I  studied  the  ethics 
of  Spinoza.  Fichte's  wonderful  dialectic  power, 
that  monologue  of  his  which  presents  the  Ego  pro- 
foundly communing  with  itself,  that  representation 
of  Feeling  as  the  final  issue  of  this  inward  commu- 
nion which  first  sought  to  establish  what  Kant  had 
empirically  conjectured,  suddenly  gave  me  light  on 
a  subject  on  which  I  had  thought  much,  namely,  the 
consecutive  development  which  goes  on  in  the  evo- 
lution of  ideas.  Fichte's  language  was  at  first  unin- 
telligible to  me,  but  after  I  found  that  the  establish- 
ment of  the  simple  idea  of  self,  the  Ego,  was  the 
corner-stone  of  his  system  of  metaphysics,  I  discov- 
ered that  its  study  demanded  a  power  of  persistent 
abstraction  which  was  not  very  difficult  to  me  to 
attain,  and  in  which  I  delighted  much  when  I  had 
attained  it.  To  make  the  personal  acquaintance 
of  Fichte  at  this  point  was  very  important.  The 
limitation  of  the  Ego,  the  central  figure  of  his  phi- 
losophy, was  in  no  way  clear  to  me  from  the  mere 
study  of  his  works. 

It  was  wonderful  with  what  feelings  I  looked  at 
the  mountains,  when,  as  it  were,  out  of  another 
heaven,  the  sun  shone  into  my  chamber,  and,  as  if 


FICHTE  AND  SCHELLING,  35 

transplanted  to  another  world,  the  trees  murmured, 
and  the  birds  sung,  when  I  returned  to  conscious- 
ness again  after  the  study  of  Fichte,  and  looked 
out  again  upon  the  face  of  nature.  It  was  like  the 
greeting  of  a  friend  after  a  long  absence,  a  friend 
whom  I  had  known  and  loved  under  very  different 
circumstances  from  those  in  which  I  now  was. 

But  besides  Fichte,  I  hoped  to  meet,  on  my  return 
to  Jena,  A.  W.  Schlegel  and  Schelling.  The  com- 
ing into  contact  with  such  men,  with  Goethe  close 
by,  promised  me  a  future  whose  worth  I  could  not 
overrate.  I  left  the  solitudes  of  the  mountains  and 
hastened  to  Jena. 


CHAPTER   II. 

FIRST  VIEW  OP  SCHELLING  —  FICHTE  IN  THE  LECTURE-ROOM  — 
LIFE  IN  JENA  IN  ITS  GOLDEN  TIME  — SCHELLING  — INTERVIEW 
WITH  GOETHE  — STEFFENS'S  VISIT  TO  GOETHE  —  SCHILLER  COM- 
PARED WITH  GOETHE  — FIRST  REPRESENTATION  OP  SCHILLER'S 
WALLENSTEIN  — STEFFENS'S  JUDGMENT  OF  WALLENSTEIN  —  UNI- 
TY AMONG  THE  SCHOLARS  OF  JENA  —  STEFFENS'S  LOVE  OF  THE 
FINE  ARTS  —  JACOBI'S  FAMOUS  LETTER  —  SPIRIT  OF  CRITICISM 
AT   JENA. 

A.  W.  ScHLEGEL  had  now  come  to  Jena  with 
his  highly-gifted  wife,  and  also  Schelling,  who  was 
to  deliver  a  trial  lecture  in  the  great  hall  of  the 
university.  He  had  just  come  from  Leipsic,  and 
was  recovering  from  severe  illness.  Professors  and 
students  were  mingled  together  in  his  auditory. 
Schelling  ascended  to  his  chair.  He  had  a  youth- 
ful countenance ;  he  was  two  years  younger  than  I, 
and  now  the  first  of  the  men  of  eminence  whose 
acquaintance  I  was  eager  to  make.  He  had  an  air 
of  decision,  I  might  say,  a  half-defiant  look,  broad 
shoulders,  the  temples  wide  apart,  the  brow  high, 
the  countenance  expressive  of  energy,  the  nose  a 
little  inclined  upwards,  and  in  his  large,  clear  eyes 
lay  a  mighty  power.  When  he  began  to  speak  he 
seemed  constrained  only  a  few  moments.  The  sub- 
ject of  his  lecture  was  one  which  then  absorbed  his 
whole  soul.     He  spoke  of  the  idea  of  a  philosophy 

86 


STEFFENS'S  MEETIXO    WITH  SCHELLING.  37 

of  nature,  of  the  need  of  embracing  nature  in  her 
unity,  of  the  light  which  would  be  thrown  upon  all 
subjects  when  philosophers  should  begin  their  specu- 
lations at  the  stand-point  of  the  unity  of  nature. 
He  carried  me  completely  away,  and  the  following 
day  I  hastened  to  visit  him.  Galvanism  then  was 
attracting  the  attention  of  all  naturalists ;  the  great 
mystery  which  unites  electricity  with  it  under  the 
law  of  a  higher  unity  was  then  just  coming  imder 
study.  I,  too,  was  deeply  interested  in  it.  Schelling 
received  me  not  merely  in  a  friendly,  but  in  a  most 
hearty  way.  I  was  the  first  professed  naturalist 
who  came  to  his  views  without  halting  and  without 
reservation.  Among  men  of  my  walk  he  had  found 
only  antagonists,  and  such,  too,  as  were  really  una- 
ble to  comprehend  him. 

1  His  conversational  manner  was  charming.  I  was 
familiar  with  his  writings,  I  coincided  almost  en- 
tirely with  his  views,  and  I  anticipated  from  him 
and  his  efforts  great  changes  in  all  natural  science. 
I  could  not  prolong  my  visit,  —  the  young  teacher 
was  busy  with  his  lectures.  But  the  ^qw  moments 
which  I  spent  with  him  were  so  delightful  that  in 
my  memory  they  expanded  into  hours.  Through 
my  entire  harmony  of  views  with  him  I  gained  a 
certain  kind  of  confidence,  which  'iloight  almost  be 
called  boldness.  True,  he  was  younger  than  I,  but 
he  was  sustained  by  a  powerful  nature,  was  trained 
among  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  had  early 
attained  to  a  great  reputation,  and  stood  as  a 
haughty  adversary  over  against  the  whole  power- 


38  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

less   horde,   whose   leaders,   thnid    and    crouching, 
shrank  back  in  fear. 

I  was  much  interested  at  this  time  in  the  opening 
genius  of  Franz  Baader,  whose  contributions  to 
metaphysics  had  been  printed  even  earlier  than 
Schelling's  writings  on  the  philosophy  of  nature; 
but  Baader  rose  out  of  the  dark  clouds  of  mysti- 
cism; Schelling,  on  the  contrary,  from  the  clearer/ 
light  of  scientific  knowledge.  The  night  of  mysti-/ 
cism  received  what  light  it  had  from  distant  stars, 
which  only  could  shine  in  the  darkness,  but  could 
not  illumine  our  path.  But  the  sun  of  an  older 
philosophy,  which  set  in  the  time  of  Grecian  wis- 
dom, arose  again  with  Schelling,  promising  a  bright 
and  beautiful  day.  On  this  clear  morning  I  awoke, 
full  of  animation  and  spirit,  ready  to  give  myself, 
without  reserve  or  constraint,  into  the  guidance  of 
this  young  man,  to  lose  myself  in  him. 

After  my  personal  interview  with  Schelling,  I 
went  to  hear  Fichte  lecture,  who  was  just  com- 
mencing his  course  on  the  Constitution  of  Man. 
His  short,  thick  figure,  with  its  sharp,  authoritative 
eyes,  struck  me  with  an  imposing  effect  when  I  saw 
him  for  the  first  time.  His  style  of  speech  was  cut- 
ting as  a  knife ;  his  sentences  fell  like  the  stroke 
from  a  razor.  Already  acquainted  with  even  the 
weaknesses  of  his  pupils,  he  sought  in  every  way 
to  make  himself  intelligible  to  them.  He  took  all 
possible  pains  to  substantiate  what  he  said  by  proof; 
but  yet  he  had  a  certain  authoritative  air,  as  if  he 
would  remove  every  doubt  by  a  command,  to  which 
unhesitating  obedience  should  be  paid.     "Gentle- 


LIFE  IN  JENA  IN  ITS  GOLDEN  DA  YS.  39 

men,"  said  he,  "  withdraw  within  yourselves ;  enter 
into  your  own  mind ;  we  are  now  not  dealing  with 
anything  outward,  —  purely  with  ourselves." 

The  hearers,  thus  bidden,  really  seemed  to  with- 
draw into  their  own  minds.  Some  changed  their 
position  and  straightened  themselves  up ;  others 
bowed  themselves  over  and  closed  their  eyes.  All 
waited  with  great  eagerness  to  see  what-  should 
come  next.  "Gentlemen,"  continued  Fichte,  "let 
your  thought  be  the  wall."  I  could  see  that  the 
hearers  set  their  minds  most  intently  upon  the 
wall,  and  everything  seemed  favorable  thus  far. 
"Have  you  thought  —  the  wall?"  asked  Fichte. 
"Now,  then,  gentlemen,  let  your  thought  be  that 
that  thought  the  wall."  It  was  curious  to  see 
what  confusion  and  perplexity  now  seemed  to 
aiise.  Many  of  the  hearers  seemed  no  ways  able 
to  discover  that  that  had  thouglit  the  wall,  and  I 
now  understood  how  it  might  well  happen  that 
young  men  who  stumbled  over  the  first  approaches 
to  speculative  philosophy  in  so  clumsy  a  way  might, 
in  later  efforts,  fall  into  errors  which  should  be 
grave,  not  to  say  dangerous.  Fichte's  lecture  was 
exceedingly  distinct  and  clear.  I  was  wholly  ab- 
sorbed in  his  subject,  and  had  to  confess  that  I  had 
never  listened  to  such  a  speaker  before. 

I  gradually  became  acquainted  with  a  number  of 
families  in  Jena.  A.  W.  Schlegel  and  his  distin- 
guished and  highly  accomplished  wife,  with  their 
amiable  daughter,  were  the  friends  whose  house  I 
most  habitually  sought.  Through  them  I  became 
acquainted  with  Hufeland,  joint  editor  with  Schlegel 


40  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

of  the  Journal  of  Literature.  He  received  me  cor- 
dially into  his  house.  In  fact,  he,  Schlegel  and  Fro- 
nianii  formed  the  circle  in  which  I  lived.  Our  talk 
was  almost  exclusively  confined  to  literary  matters, 
the  quarrels  of  authors,  and  their  relations  to  their 
I  antagonists ;  and,  although  not  a  writer  myself,  I 
I  suddenly  found  myself  transferred  to  a  field  of  crit- 
icism which  I  saw  would  sooner  or  later  bring  me 
into  public  collision  with  prominent  men.  My  mind 
was  very  productive ;  ideas  crowded  in  upon  me, 
but  I  lacked  the  quiet  needed  to  work  them  out 
and  apply  them.  I  studied,  experimented,  and  was 
borne  more  rapidly  than  ever  along  in  the  current 
of  fresh  thoughts.  Schelling  was  expounding  the 
Philosophy  of  Nature  according  to  a  prospectus 
which  was  printed  and  distributed  among  his  stu- 
dents. I  attended  his  lectures;  every  hour  gave 
me  fresh  food  for  thought  and  made  my  stay  in 
Jena  more  valuable.  I  seemed  transferred  to  a 
new  life.  The  men  of  whom  I  had  heard  and 
whose  works  I  had  read,  the  men  for  whose  ac- 
quaintance I  had  so  earnestly  longed,  were  now 
ray  daily  companions.  The  still  monologue  of  my 
life  had  transferred  itself  into  the  animated  play  of 
conversation ;  I  could  hardly  understand  the  nov- 
elty of  my  situation.  Schelling  seemed  to  stand 
the  nearest  to  me,  and  even  what  there  was  antag- 
onistic in  our  modes  of  thought  drew  me  to  him  all 
the  more.  He  had  advanced  from  philosophy  to 
the  study  of  nature.  I  now  became  acquainted 
with  his  philosophical  writings,  and  wondered  at 
the  thoroughness  and  confidence  and  power  with 


GOETHE.  41 

which,  even  in  extreme  youth,  he  handled  themes 
which  were  foreign  to  the  thought  of  any  man  of 
the  time.  He  was  scarcely  twenty  years  old  when 
he  wrote  his  treatise  on  The  Ecro  as  the  Foundation 
Principle  of  Philosophy.  He  seemed  to  have  re- 
newed in  him  powers  which  for  centuries  had  not 
been  seen ;  he  seemed  called  to  the  work  of  raising 
philosophy  from  the  dust.  At  times  I  felt  too  in- 
significant to  sit  in  his  presence;  but  his  nearness 
awaked  me  to  new  energies  and  to  enlarged  views, 
which  without  him  I  never  should  have  attained. 
Spinoza  roused  me  from  sleep;  Schelling  set  me  to  ! 
working. 

One  evening  I  was  invited  to  Fromann's.  Goe- 
the was  expected.  With  what  trepidation  I  looked 
forward  to  the  meeting,  every  one  can  imagine  who 
knows  what  Goethe  had  been  to  me  from  my  child- 
hood up. 

My  intimate  acquaintance  with  Goethe's  writings 
had  attracted  the  attention  of  Schlegel  and  his  wife. 
They  wished  to  have  us  meet,  and  see  what  impres- 
sion the  great  poet  of  Weimar  would  make  on  the 
man  from  the  North.  I  was  invited  by  them  to 
read  from  Faust,  the  first  part  of  which  had  just 
appeared.  The  book,  however,  was  not  readily 
found,  and  I  repeated  the  first  monologue  from 
memory.  I  asked  if  I  should  go  on,  and  could 
have  repeated  a  good  part  of  the  book  without , 
help.  Lady  Schlegel  was  delighted,  and  agreed  to  /• 
introduce  me  to  the  poet  forthwith.  But  Fromann 
anticipated  her  kind  intention. 

It  is  a  peculiar  feeling  with  which  one  meets  for 


42  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  first  time  a  man  who  has  exercised  a  great  and 
decisive  influence  on  his  life.  Such  a  moment 
forms  an  epoch  in  the  life;  and  it  seemed  to  me, 
as  I  walked  to  Fromann's  house,  as  if  a  great  catas- 
trophe were  just  at  hand.  Goethe  appeared.  It  is 
known  to  every  one  who  has  seen  him,  how  his 
noble  figure,  his  admirable' carriage,  his  speaking 
eye,  the  majesty  of  his  whole  appearance,  and  the 
composure  with  Avhich  he  does  everything,  were 
overwhelmingly  imposing  on  all  who  met  him  for 
the  first  time.  The  greatness  revealed  in  his  works 
was  fitly  expressed  in  the  man  himself.  When  I 
first  saAV  him  I  had  to  turn  away  to  hide  my  tears, 
so  much  was  I  overcome.  It  seemed  as  if  I  were 
looking  upon  Egmont,  Orange,  and  Tasso,  in  him. 
In  the  company  was  a  Mr.  Stackelberg,  of  Liefland ; 
he  was  introduced  to  Goethe  at  the  same  time  with 
myself. 

The  hallucination  that  Goethe  must  have  had  a 
suspicion  of  what  he  had  been  to  me  was  natural; 
but  he  entertained  himself  the  whole  evening  with 
Mr.  Stackelberg.  It  was  not  my  good  fortune  to 
draw  his  attention  for  a  single  moment.  Goethe 
was  then  in  his  best  days.  The  composure  which 
characterized  his  whole  manner  began  to  displease 
me,  yes,  even  to  embitter  me.  I  was  silent,  troubled, 
and  felt  myself  wounded.  I  remembered  stories  of 
his  haughtiness  and  coolness,  and  went  to  my  rooms 
in  a  mood  almost  unendurable.  The  northern  Euro- 
pean is  by  nature  easily  woimded  in  this  way,  and  I 
have  had  to  struggle  all  my  Hfe  with  a  sensitiveness 
which  has  often  made  me  very  unhappy.     How- 


INTERVIEW  WITH  GOETHE.  43 

ever,  I  got  along  as  well  as  I  could,  and  repeated 
Philene's  words  as  I  walked  home,  — 

« If  I  don't  love  thee,  what  ist  to  thee  ? '» 

but  yet  it  would  lie  like  a  dark  shadow  across  my 
path. 

I  must  communicate  my  troubles  to  some  one, 
and  so  on  the  next  day  I  hurried  to  the  Schlegels. 
Lady  Schlegel  was  amazed  at  the  bitterness  with 
which  I  spoke.  It  troubled  her,  too,  that  Fromann 
had  anticipated  her,  and  she  promised  that  at  a  sec- 
ond interview  with  Goethe,  which  she  would  bring 
about,  all  should  be  amicably  settled.  But  here  my 
northeni  stubbornness  came  in.  The  higher  I  hon- 
ored him,  the  more  decisive  the  influence  he  had 
exercised  upon  me,  the  more  difficult  I  found  it  to 
consent  to  meet  him  a  second  time.  I  exj^ressed 
myself  strongly  that  Goethe  must  call  upon  me 
first ;  no  entreaty  changed  my  mind.  One  evening 
I  was  invited  to  the  Schlegels:  they  had,  out  of 
pure  kindness,  planned  a  sui'prise.  Goethe  was  to 
be  there,  and  I  was  not  to  know  it.  I  saw  through 
it,  wheeled  round,  and  did  not  appear  in  the  com- 
pany. Weeks  elapsed,  and  I  gave  myself  to  my 
studies.  Still  I  often  had  a  bitterness  of  heart,  as 
if  I  had  lost  some  great  good.  The  family  of  the 
celebrated  anatomist  Loder  was  among  those  who 
had  received  me  in  the  most  friendly  way.  His 
birthday  was  approaching,  and  it  was  the  intention 
to  celebrate  it  by  a  theatrical  performance.  The 
"Actor  against  his  Will"  was  selected,  and  I  was  ap- 


44  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

m 

pointed  to  take  the  chief  part.  Singularly  enough, 
for  years  before  I  had  devoted  myself  passionately 
to  the  drama,  and  had  acquired  some  skill  in  theat- 
rical representations.  The  stage  erected,  repeated 
rehearsals  were  held.  I  was  not  only  the  chief 
player,  but  the  manager  also.  I  took  the  liberty 
to  make  some  changes  in  the  play,  and  introduced 
a  few  passages  from  the  poems  of  Iffland  and  Schil- 
ler. 

The  days  flew  by ;  the  time  for  the  final  rehearsal 
arrived.  To  my  amazement,  as  we  were  just  begin- 
ning, Goethe  appeared.  He  had  promised,  it  seemed, 
to  be  present  at  the  final  rehearsal,  but  that  I  did 
not  know.  After  he  had  saluted  the  ladies,  he 
came  up  to  me  and  greeted  me  as  an  old  acquaint- 
ance and  friend.  "I  have  long  been  hoping  to  see 
you  in  Weimar,"  said  he ;  "I  have  much  to  talk 
over  with  you.  When  these  affairs  are  by,  I  hope 
you  will  accompany  me  home."  Who  was  happier 
than  I  ?  It  seemed  as  if  now  my  hour  of  highest 
joy  had  come.  I  fear  that  some  of  my  delight 
appeared  in  my  acting.  Here  and  there  Goethe 
gave  some  good  counsel.  As  I  was  repeating  the 
passage  from  Schiller,  Goethe  stepped  up  to  me  in 
a  friendly  way  and  said,  "  Select  other  passages,  if 
you  please ;  better  leave  our  good  friend  Schiller 
out  of  the  play."  All  then  passed  off  well.  I  sub- 
stituted Kotzebue  for  Schiller ;  the  birthday  festival 
was  a  success,  and  I  added  the  reputation  of  a  skil- 
ful actor  to  what  credit  with  the  public  I  had  won 
before. 

The  day  after,  according  to  promise,  Goethe  ap- 


STEFFENS'S   VISIT  TO  GOETHE.  45 

peared  before  my  house.  I  hurried  down,  with  my 
coat  under  my  arm,  and  rode  by  his  side  to  Wei- 
mar. I  stayed  there  a  number  of  days  as  his  guest. 
Goethe  was  communicative  in  the  highest  degree, 
and  this  by  necessity,  because  it  was  his  object  to 
gain  over  young  naturahsts  to  his  views.  The  days 
at  Weimar  sped  by  in  uninterrupted  conversation 
on  scientific  subjects.  I  became  acquainted  with 
Goethe  on  a  side  of  his  character  hitherto  unknown 
to  me.  His  deep  sympathy  with  nature,  that  quick- 
ening, creative  power  which  appeared  in  all  his 
poems  and  threw  its  clear  light  over  all  his  words, 
became  apparent ;  plants  and  animals,  and  even 
the  flashing  colors  of  the  rainbow,  he  could  view, 
not  in  their  isolated  unity,  but  in  all  their  mutual 
dependences  and  relations.  Whoever  has  followed 
the  course  of  my  own  life,  and  studied  my  charac- 
ter, will  understand  how  valuable  those  days  with 
Goethe  must  have  been  to  me.  The  object  of  all 
my  efforts  he  seemed  to  grasp  in  a  moment,  and  the 
treasure  I  so  restlessly  sought  appeared  to  be  his 
peaceful  possession.  I  spent  those  days  in  a  kind 
of  ecstasy;  and  I  now  felt  thoroughly  persuaded 
that  I  had  gained  such  a  comprehensive  insight 
into  nature,  that  it  would  be  a  spring  of  undying 
poetical  feeling,  and  would  crown  my  whole  life 
with  the  richest  fruits.  My  previous  career  seemed 
like  a  dark  prophecy  whose  fulfilment  lay  close  at 
hand ;  and,  full  of  animation  and  hope,  I  hastened 
back  to  Jena  to  communicate  to  Schelling  what  I 
believed  I  had  discovered.  But  he  knew  it  all  bet- 
ter than  I,  although  whether  he  had  then  come  to 


46  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

personal  contact  with  Goethe   I  cannot  perfectly 
recall. 

During  this  time  of  excited  feeling,  which  had 
not  yet  crystallized  into  a  school,  and  while  there 
was  so  much  scientific  and  political  activity,  every 
event  called  forth  a  lively  interest.  According  to 
the  brothers  Schlegel,  Schiller  could  hardly  be  com- 
^  pared  to  Goethe.  The  latter  was  deified,  the  wri- 
ting of  Wilhelm  Meister  was  regarded  as  the  deci- 
sive turning-point  of  modern  imaginative  art,  and 
as  the  greatest  event  of  the  times ;  the  former  was 
criticised  with  severity  and  rudeness.  I  could  not 
join  in  this.  The  frank,  knightly  spirit  which  pre- 
vailed in  his  poems  exercised  a  powerful  influence 
over  me,  and  the  severe  truthfulness  of  his  dramas 
pleased  me  much.  I  never  favored  the  views  of 
those  men  who  made  nothing  of  life  but  a  long- 
drawn  play  of  irony.  And  although  I  never  could 
compare  Schiller  with  Goethe,  although  I  believed  I 
could  discern  a  kind  of  narrowness  in  his  writings, 
yet  everything  which  he  wrote  was  pervaded  with 
a  crystal  clearness  and  purity  which  pleased  me. 
Schiller  had  for  some  years  been  laboring  at  his 
great  drama,  Wallenstein.  Wallenstein's  Camp  had 
already  been  brought  upon  the  stage,  and  it  is  well 
known  how  lively  an  interest  Goethe  took  in  its 
representation.  It  was,  if  I  mistake  not,  the  first 
fruit  which  appeared  of  the  friendly  alliance  of  these 
two  great  poets.  Goethe  found  in  the  varied  and 
changing  scenes  of  this  drama  a  favorable  opening 
for  a  musical  composition  to  be  interwoven,  and 
added  to  the  clearness  and  vividness  of  the  whole. 


FIRST  REPRESENTATION  OF  WALL  ENS  TE  IN,       47 

The  tragic  moment  which  causes  you  to  suspect  the 
downfall  of  the  hero  of  the  great  drama  throws  an 
eventful  light  through  the  whole  play.  It  was  in 
fact  a  complete  dramatic  composition.  Much  pains 
were  taken  with  all  the  surroundings ;  the  decora- 
tions were  not  merely  respectable,  they  were  fine. 
Everything  seemed  favorable  for  an  admirable  rep- 
resentation, and  the  people  of  Jena  do  not  willingly 
neglect  any  such  opportunity  as  this.  The  more 
cultivated  regarded  this  dramatic  entertainment  as 
an  important  affair,  one  that  would  give  the  drama 
a  higher  importance,  and  by  which  both  city  and 
university  would  be  improved  and  made  eminent. 

Piccolomini,  the  opening  part  of  the  great  drama, 
was  complete,  and  would  be  represented  for  the  first 
time.  The  excitement  with  which  people  looked 
forward  to  this  event  was  striking.  The  families  of 
the  professors  manifested  the  greatest  eagerness  to 
obtain  places  at  the  first  announcement  of  the  play. 
Through  the  whole  city  the  people  talked  of  noth- 
ing else.  Mothers  and  daughters  intrigued  in  each 
other's  behalf  for  tickets ;  and  whoever  had  obtained 
a  place  held  himself  fortunate.  Amid  all  this  anx- 
ious striving  quarrels  arose,  which  did  not  quickly 
pass  away.  I  rode  with  the  counsellors  Hufeland 
and  Loder;  the  wives  of  both  were  with  us,  and 
Loder's  beautiful  daughter.  So  we  six  crowded 
into  one  coach,  dismounted  at  the  Elephant  Tavern, 
and  hurried  to  the  theatre.  Schlegel's  gifted  wife 
was  left  at  home.  Schelling,  too,  remained,  cease- 
lessly busy  with  his  lectures.    I  had  obtained  a  seat 


48  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

in  Schiller's  own  box,  and  made  his  personal  ac- 
quaintance under  these  interesting  circumstances. 

To  speak  here  of  this  drama  were  superfluous. 
The  excitement  of  the  public  mind  communicated 
itself  to  every  one.  The  greatest  pains  had  been 
spent  in  the  preparation,  the  long  passages  w^ere 
spoken  without  any  breaks,  and  the  by-play  was  ex- 
cellent ;  there  was  no  fault  in  this  respect  to  be 
found ;  all  the  performers,  it  was  plain,  made  the 
greatest  efibrt.  Every  one  wanted  to  earn  praise. 
And  in  truth  all  the  circumstances  could  not  be 
more  favorable.  Goethe,  to  whom  the  dramatic  art 
was  a  matter  of  great  importance,  was  himself  the 
chief  manager ;  and  his  eminence  gave  him  an  in- 
fluence over  the  whole  theatre  corps  which  was 
hardly  ever  equalled  elsewhere.  The  performers 
did  not  so  much  fear  him  for  his  greatness  as  they 
respected  him  for  his  skill ;  they  well  knew  that 
whoever  did  credit  to  the  stage  of  Weimar  had 
gained  a  reputation  which  would  be  known  through 
Germany,  and  that  if  circumstances  should  make  it 
desirable  to  leave  Weimar  they  would  not  be  long 
in  securing  an  advantageous  position.  Enthusiasm 
for  a  science  which  was  cherished  by  Goethe's  active 
interest  was  united  with  a  desire  to  secure  all  the 
advantages  which  acting  might  give  to  such  a  play 
as  Wallenstein.  The  public  excitement,  too,  natu- 
rally reacted  upon  the  performers  and  stimulated 
their  efforts.  The  impression  which  all  this  pro- 
duced upon  me  reminded  me  vividly  of  the  evening 
in  Wilhelm  Meister  when  Hamlet  was  played  for 
the  first  time. 


FIRST  REPRESENTATION  OF  WALLENSTEIN        49 

And  yet  I  was  thrown  into  great  perplexity.  I 
have  ah-eady  alluded  to  the  passion  which  I  had 
in  Copenhagen  for  dramatic  representations.  Picco- 
lomini  was  the  first  important  play  which  I  saw  in 
Weimar.  I  carried  with  me  to  the  theatre  the  most 
exalted  ideas  of  what  the  Weimar  stage  must  be 
under  Goethe's  direction,  and  now  I  was  compelled 
to  confess  that  the  playing  was  freer  and  more  nat- 
ural, and  that  the  ability  of  the  performers  in  Co- 
penhagen was  greater  than  here.  I  had  seen  Schro- 
der, and  of  course  did  not  expect  to  find  his  equal 
in  Weimar.  But  what  was  effected  in  Hamburg 
and  Copenhagen  by  eminent  skill,  was  made  up  in 
Weimar  by  the  masterly  management  of  Goethe, 
leaving  as  he  did  not  one  deficiency  or  marked  de- 
fect to  mar  the  unity  of  the  whole. 

I  always  like  to  read  over  a  noted  drama  if  it  is 
possible  before  it  is  played.  The  reading  is  of  itself 
a  sort  of  representation,  and  he  must  have  a  dull 
mind  who  is  not  better  pleased  with  this  than  with 
what  he  ordinarily  meets  at  the  theatre.  Only  a 
great  actor  who  is  himself  a  poet  can  bring  out 
those  hidden  beauties  which  escape  us  in  the  read- 
ing. While  we  are  acting  the  drama  on  the  theatre 
of  our  own  mind,  the  personages  of  the  play  form 
themselves  with  great  distinctness  in  our  thought, 
and  if  at  the  public  representation  we  do  not  see 
those  who  correspond  to  our  own  imaginings  of 
hero  and  heroines,  the  impression  is  only  transitory, 
and  the  one  which  we  formed  in  the  stillness  of  our 
own  study  is  the  permanent  one.  Wholly  different  is 
it  when  we  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  drama  within 


50  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  walls  of  a  theatre.  The  dramatis  personaB  stamp 
their  figures  so  ineradicably  in  my  mind  at  least 
that  I  can  never  shake  them  off;  and  so  I  always 
carry  about  with  me  the  lank,  haggard,  sorrowful- 
looking  Graff  as  Wallenstein.  He  had  taken  un- 
speakable pains  with  his  part,  and  had  committed 
it  thoroughly ;  his  diction  was  admirable.  In  no 
place  was  there  that  unhappy  false  tone  which  al- 
ways appears  when  a  player  is  expressing  what  he 
does  not  understand ;  and  yet  his  figure,  his  move- 
ment, and  his  playing,  were  thoroughly  wooden.  It 
appeared  as  if  he  were  repeating  a  lesson  which 
Goethe  and  Schiller  had  taught  him  with  the  great- 
est care.  Even  when  at  a  later  period  I  saw  the 
incomparable  Fleck  as  Wallenstein,  the  unhappy 
Graff  always  came  into  my  mind  as  his  shadow,  and 
dispelled  the  charm.  Even  Bohz  did  not  please  me 
as  Max  at  all ;  only  Miss  Jagemann,  young,  bloom- 
ing, and  spirited,  charmed  me  as  Theckla. 

But  I  soon  saw  that  Schiller,  who  sat  by  my  side, 
was  more  than  satisfied  with  all ;  he  was  delighted. 
"  By  such  playing  as  this,"  said  he,  "  a  man  comes  to 
learn  what  his  own  piece  is  ;  it  is  ennobled  by  such 
a  representation,  and  the  words  when  spoken  are 
better  than  when  I  wrote  them."  I  was  particu- 
larly surprised  at  the  applause  which  Schiller  gave 
to  a  young  woman  who  played  the  part  of  Terzky. 
There  was,  indeed,  a  certain  vivacity  and  even  pas- 
sion in  her  playing,  and  in  the  most  effective  passa- 
ges she  never  missed  a  word  ;  so  far  as  this  the  part 
was  well  performed.  But  in  her  figure,  her  move- 
ment, and  her  pronunciation,  there  was  something 


STEFFENS'S  JUDGMENT  OF  WALLEN STEIN.        51 

SO  mean  that  she  was  to  me  positively  offensive ; 
and  yet  Schiller  was  delighted.  How  he,  with  his 
accurate  high  German  accent,  could  bear  her  flat 
Berlin  pronunciation,  was  past  ray  comprehension. 
Even  Goethe,  who  occasionally  came  into  the  box 
where  we  sat,  appeared  entirely  pleased  with  the 
performance,  although  he  did  not  express  himself 
enthusiastically  as  Schiller  did.  Looked  at  from  the 
point  of  view  which  was  probably  the  true  one,  that 
he  did  not  wish  to  disturb  the  evident  satisfaction 
of  Schiller,  it  is  conceivable  that  Goethe,  after  many 
painstaking  rehearsals,  came  at  last  to  fairly  wonder 
how,  out  of  the  materials  at  his  command,  he  could 
attain  such  comparative  perfection. 

Directly  at  the  close  of  the  performance  we  drove  j 
out  to  Jena,  and,  although  it  was  very  late,  some  of 
us  assembled  at  the  house  of  Professor  Schlegel  to 
talk  witli  his  wife  about  the  play.  She  demanded, 
in  that  decisive  way  habitual  to  her,  a  definite  opin- 
ion of  the  piece ;  and  here  the  fact  showed  itself 
that  the  first  impression  of  a  work  grasped  as  a 
whole  will  not  admit  of  the  sharp  language  of  pos- 
itive criticism.  Most  critics,  when  they  undertake 
to  pronounce  judgment  upon  works  of  genius  in  all* 
departments  of  literature,  particularly  when  they 
are  arranged  with  a  definite  plot,  are  apt  to  feel 
that  they  must  give  verbal  expression  to  the  spell 
which  is  laid  upon  them.  And  so,  in  trying  to  de- 
scribe the  indescribable,  the  real  spirit  of  the  work 
is  reduced  to  nothing  in  their  hands,  and  the  plot 
remains  as  the  only  thing  of  value. 

In  this  circle  there  was  no  great  inclination  to 


52  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

pronounce  a  very  favorable  judgment  upon  Schiller. 
He  barely  could  gain  justice,  not  to  say  leniency, 
and  yet  the  deep  impression  produced  by  his  play 
had  to  get  vent.  I  well  remember  how  Madame 
Schlegel,  after  much  had  been  said  on  this  side 
and  that,  turned  abruptly  to  me  with  the  ques- 
tion, "  Have  you  not,  also,  an  opinion  to  express  ?  " 
Schlegel,  the  most  thoughtful  one  of  us  all,  remained 
silent  to  hear  my  judgment.  I  had  noticed  a  cer- 
tain similarity  between  Wallenstein  and  Don  Car- 
los. I  had  observed  that  the  same  thought  lies 
\  as  the  ground- work  of  each,  although  developed 
'in  entirely  different  ways.  I  remarked  upon  this 
resemblance,  commenting  upon  the  parallelism  be- 
tween the  loves  of  Max  and  Theckla  in  Piccolo- 
mini,  and  Elizabeth  and  Posa  in  Don  Carlos.  I 
criticised  the  length  of  special  passages,  and  the  air 
of  mere  declamation  which  this  length  must  give 
them  when  spoken ;  and  I  showed  that  out  of  the 
same  source  would  spring  a  tedious  uniformity, 
which"  would  prevent  the  hearer  from  discrimina- 
ting between  the  characters  of  the  play.  Indeed, 
it  has  become  plain  to  me  since,  that  this  declama- 
'  tory  style  of  Schiller  has  been  very  hostile  to  the  in- 
terests of  the  stage,  for  it  has  not  only  banished  that 
individuality  which  men  love  to  see  clearly  marked, 
but  it  has  also  produced  a  theatrical  style  of  speak- 
ing which  is  noticeable  everywhere,  heard  even  in 
the  pulpit,  and  in  the  mouths  of  school-boys,  as  they 
declaim  at  exhibition.  And  the  effect  of  this  mo- 
notonous style  adopted  by  Schiller  is  felt  in  the  fine 
arts,  in  painting,  and  especially  in  music.  We  notice 


UNITY  AMONG  THE  SCHOLARS  OF  JENA.  53 

that  in  these  two  branches  the  sharply-defined  works 
of  our  ancestors,  and  the  clear-cut  melodies  which 
live  in  the  memory,  have  given  place  to  broad,  plat- 
itudinous masses  of  color  and  sound,  without  indi- 
viduality, and  as  lifeless  as  they  are  vague.  All  our 
hope  for  the  future  rests  upon  the  constant  dimin- 
ishing of  this  monotonous  declamatory  style,  and 
the  restoring,  as  Tieck  is  now  doing,  of  that  sharp 
delineation  of  character  which  distinguishes  all  the 
works  of  Goethe ;  that  the  painters  may  return  to 
their  former  clear  simplicity ;  that  Thorwaldsen  may 
restore  individuality  to  the  works  of  sculpture ;  and 
that  Mendelssohn  may  bring  out  of  the  chaos  of 
modern  sound  the  strength  and  definiteness  and 
crystal  beauty  which  make  eminent  the  time  of 
Handel  and  Bach. 

What  made  those  times  so  delightful  at  Jena  was 
the  unity  wljich  prevailed  among  all  those  founders 
of  a  new  school  of  literature.  It  was  almost  like 
the  unity  which  prevails  in  the  organic  world,  where 
one  root  puts  forth  many  forms,  different  in  aspect, 
but  in  full  agreement  with  each  other.  They  all  felt 
that  they  had  a  common  work  to  do,  and  that  they 
could  do  it  together.  Fichte  and  Schelliug  under- - 
stood  the  differences  in  their  philosophy,  although 
they  had  never  expressed  it.  Meantime  they  did 
not  see  each  other  often,  and  could  come  to  no 
agreement.  Fichte  gave  himself  entirely  to  ethics 
and  its  kindred  theories,  so  that  the^  seldom  came 
into  direct  collision. 

Berlin  was  then  regarded  as  the  seat  of  the  lowest 
order  of  mind  in  Germany,  and  was  but  little  thought 


54  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

of.  The  General  German  Library,  published  by  Wi- 
colai,  the  Berlin  Monthly,  by  Blester,  were  viewed 
as  the  staples  of  common-place  thought;  but  yet 
even  at  Berlin  there  were  men  of  mark.  Among 
them  was  Schleiermacher,  but  as  yet  I  knew  him 
only  by  name.  Tieck,  the  poet,  made  a  strong  im- 
pression upon  me.  The  appreciation  of  poetry  had 
fallen  so  low  in  Germany,  that  Tieck's  first  writings 
made  no  stir,  and  his  publisher  tells  us  that  his 
works  lay  on  his  counters  as  valueless  as  waste 
paper.  The  brothers  Schlegel  were  the  first  who 
called  attention  to  the  richness  and  grace  of  Tieck, 
and  it  now  seems  almost  incredible  how  it  was  pos- 
sible not  to  discern  the  charming  style  and  the 
poetical  freshness  of  that  man,  destined  to  such 
eminence. 

A.  W.  Schlegel's  translation  and  criticism  of  Ro- 
meo and  Juliet,  his  paper  on  Dante,  and  the  writings 
which  followed  these,  called  the  minds  of  men  away 
from  the  narrower  literature  which  had  interested 
them,  and  taught  them  to  use  a  better  standard  for 
trying  works  of  poetry;  and  it  began  to  be  seen 
that  the  whole  genius  of  literature  had  changed, 
and  that  we  were  entering  on  a  new  epoch.  No 
sense  of  the  beauty  of  the  ^hq  arts  had  yet  been 
awakened  in  me.  I  only  suspected  their  worth. 
Lessing's  Laocoon  could  give  me  thoughts,  but  few 
definite  images.  I  now  jDcrceived  what  the  merit 
of  Winckelmann  was  in  opening  to  my  generation 
the  resources  of  Greek  and  Roman  art ;  but  as  yet  I 
had  seen  as  good  as  nothing,  my  eye  was  closed  to 
the  beauty  of  art ;  what  Goethe  showed  me  with 


JACOBPS  CELEBRATED  LETTER.  65 

SO  kindl}^a  feeling  could  only  have  worth  to  the  en- 
lightened vision.  I  sighed  when  I  confessed  with 
Northern  honesty  that  a  sense  of  the  fine  arts 
seemed  to  be  wanting  to  me,  and  yet  the  con- 
sciousness filled  me  that  every  man  must  have  a  cer- 
tain native  power  of  appreciating  the  beautiful.  I 
saw  myself  transferred,  as  it  were,  to  a  higher  world', 
and  it  could  not  be  that  I  must  remain  a  stranger  to 
what  was  in  it.  As  sky  and  earth,  mountains  and 
seas,  plants  and  animals,  surround  me  in  the  world 
of  sense,  so  to  my  more  cultivated  and  awakened 
eye  there  must  be  displayed  forms  of  beauty  which 
I  could  not  then  perceive.  I  did  not  pretend  to 
affect  what  I  did  not  possess,  and  only  looked  for- 
ward with  hope  to  new  attainments  in  the  apprecia- 
tion of  art.  Goethe  spoke  comforting  words  to  me. 
I  had  never  given  up  the  looking  forward  to  an 
Italian  journey,  but  he  directed  me  not  to  Italy,  but 
to  Dresden.  "  There,"  said  he,  "  you  will  find  treas- 
ures of  art  which  will  be  ample  material  for  study." 
The  honesty  with  which  I  spoke  of  my  deficiencies 
seemed  to  please  him. 

During  my  winter  in  Jena  a  letter  of  Jacobi 
called  out  a  great  degree  of  attention.  It  had  that 
singular  blending  of  simple  assent  and  contradiction 
which  characterized  everything  of  Jacobi's  when 
he  treated  of  things  metaphysical.  The  celebra- 
ted passage,  in  which  he  pleads  the  right  of  some 
to  oppose  the  generally-conceded  principles  of  mo- 
rality, made  a  deep  impression  on  the  public  mind. 
I  quote  his  words ;  they  are  in  a  certain  way  clas- 
sic ;    "  I  am,"  he  says,  "  that   atheist   and  godless 


66  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

mair  who  will  lie  as  Desdemona,  dying,  lied ;  will 
deceive  as  Pylades  did  in  behalf  of  Orestes ;  will 
murder  as  Timoleon  did ;  will  break  law  and  oath 
as  did  Epaminondas  and  John  de  Witt ;  will  com- 
mit suicide  like  Otho  ;  wall  rob  temples  like  David  ; 
yes,  pluck  ears  of  corn  on  the  Sabbath  merely  be- 
cause I  am  hungry,  and  because  the  law  is  made  for 
the  sake  of  man,  not  man  for  the  sake  of  the  law; 
for  with  the  holiest  devotion  to  conscience  I  know 
that  the  privileghim  a(/gratiandi  in  cases  of  such  a 
nature  is  the  peculiar  right  of  man,  the  seal  of  his 
w^orth  and  of  his  divine  origin." 

This  letter,  written  upon  green  paper,  on  account 
of  the  weakness  of  Jacobi's  eyes,  was  passed  around, 
and  was  read  by  us  all  in  the  same  spirit  in  which 
it  was  written.  It  was  praised  by  some,  and  criti- 
cised severely  by  others,  although  the  time  had  not 
yet  come  in  which  he  was  a  mark  for  the  most  gen- 
eral as  well  as  the  most  bitter  attacks. 

What  specially  characterized  those  halcyon  days 
at  Jena,  were  the  assiduity  and  zeal  which  prevailed 
in  every  one ;  the  conviction  that  in  order  to  meet 
an  opponent  one  must  fight  on  his  own  ground,  and 
must  employ  not  mere  generalities  nor  happy  turns  of 
rhetoric,  but  must  use  the  strong  weapons  of  a  precise 
view  and  extended  knowledge.  The  men  who  were 
at  the  head  of  all  had  published  works  whose  praise 
was  ill  all  mouths ;  like  Lessing,  they  had  won  their 
literary  citizenship  by  the  most  strenuous  labor  and 
the  most  skilful  attacks  upon  the  prevailing  views ; 
they  were  men  who  knew  what  they  wanted,  hav- 
ing a  definite  aim  which  they  persistently  followed ; 


SPIRIT  OF  THE  CRITICISM  OF  JENA.  57 

and  when  criticism  was  sharp  and  close,  it  was,  not- 
withstanding the  power  of  thought,  of  views  which, 
long  cherished,  had  come  to  maturity,  and  made 
way  for  themselves.  The  times  were  not  such  as  to 
make  men  content  with  trying  to  revive  old  forms, 
and  to  catch  applause  by  specious  show ;  it  was  an 
era  full  of  young  life  and  untried  powers,  and  it 
threw  off  the  fetters  of  mere  custom  ;  it  would  not 
bear  the  stiffness  of  old  age ;  it  must  be  active  and 
jubilant  in  new  strength.  Men  found  fault  with  such 
innovators  as  the  brothers  Schlegel,  and  charged 
them  with  pursuing  paradoxes ;  but  must  not  every- 
thing, which  is  really  the  fruit  of  greatness,  seem 
strange,  unintelligible,  paradoxical,  to  those  who  are 
simply  trying  to  grasp  the  scattered  details  of  life 
and  science  ? 


CHAPTER    III. 

WANT  OF  ATTRACTIONS  IN  BERLIN  —  INCIDENT  FROM  FK^HTE'S 
LIFE  — HIS  UNSWERVING  ADVOCACY  OF  TRUTH— FICHTE  DRIVEN 
FROM  JENA  —  HIS  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  USE  OF  HIS  SYSTEM -^CAR- 
DINAL POINTS  OF  FICHTE'S  PHILOSOPHY  —  HIS  ALLEGED  ATHE- 
ISM—JOURNEY TO  FREIBERG  —  SECOND  RECEPTION  BY  GOETHE 
—  INTERVIEW  WITH  MALTE  BRUN  —  GLOOMY  ENTRANCE  INTO 
HALLE  — MORE  FAVORABLE  IMPRESSIONS  — REICHARDT,  THE  MU- 
SICAL   COMPOSER. 

In  Jena,  Berlin  did  not  stand  very  high,  and  that 
city  had  not  for  me  any  special  attractions.  The 
sandy  surroundings,  the  character  of  the  poets  resi- 
dent there,  the  Berlin  philosophy,  and  the  library, 
formed  an  aggregate  which  seemed  in  my  eyes  poor 
and  mean,  and  from  all  I  saw  and  heard  I  had  no 
desire  to  tarry  long  in  Berlin.  Lessing,  I  was  told, 
could  fmd  no  place  there.  Goethe  had  a  horror  of 
it,  and,  it  was  believed,  had  never  been  there ;  all 
my  acquaintances  thought  little  of  Berlin.  I  had  no 
interest  in  the  political  aifairs  of  Germany,  and  as 
for  fine  soldiers,  having  been  brought  up  among 
them,  my  curiosity  had  been  satisfied.  And  yet 
there  were  three  men  living  there  who  were  among 
my  most  intimate  friends,  and  although  Jena  seemed 
most  charged  with  activity,  yet  I  could  not  forget 
those  three  men.  Schleiermacher  was  there,  filling 
the  humble  post  of  preacher  at  the  Charite  Hospital, 

68 


AN  INCIDENT  FROM  FICHTE'S  LIFE,  69 

Frederick  Schlegel  was  then  there,  and  Tieck  was 
a  native  of  Berlin. 

An  important  circumstance  took  place  before  I 
left  Jena.  Fichte  was  arraigned  as  an  atheist  by 
the  theologian  Jleinhard,  acting  in  behalf  of  the 
court  of  Saxony.  This  whole  affair  has  become  so 
public  that  it  seems  almost  superfluous  to  speak  of 
it  at  the  present  time.  It  was  occasioned  by  an  ar- 
ticle published  by  Forberg,  in  Niethamner's  Journal, 
on  moral  government.  Fichte  took  upon  himself 
the  answering  of  this  article.  The  whole  story  may 
be  found  in  the  biography  of  Fichte,  written  by  his 
son.  What  impression  this  affair  made  upon  us, 
may  easily  be  imagined.  We  were  roused  at  once. 
We  believed  that  we  saw  in  it  a  protest  against 
the  spirit  of  free  inquiry.  Fichte's  conduct  was 
throughout  firm  and  worthy  of  him.  When  he  was 
summoned  to  an  explanation,  he  answered  at  once 
that  if  he  were  cramped  in  his  freedom  it  would 
compel  him  to  leave  Jena.  The  reply  from  Weimar 
contained  a  reproof  for  the  injudicious  manner  with 
which  he  had  expressed  himself  on  the  rnost  sacred 
subjects,  and  a  warning  to  be  more  careful  in  the 
future.  It  was,  as  we  saw,  the  object  of  the  Wei- 
mar court  to  give  the  affair  a  look  as  if  Fichte 
had  voluntarily  withdrawn.  His  removal  from  Jena 
seemed  unavoidable.  The  court  worded  its  reproof 
so  as  to  call  out  if  possible  his  resignation  at  once. 
But  when  Fichte  declared  that  this  reproof  was  not 
of  a  kind  to  comi)el  him  to  withdraw,  the  court  in 
Weimar  saw  itself  forced  to  remove  him  by  the  ex- 
ercise of  authority.    Just  then,  when  all  minds  were 


60  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

in  agitation,  JPaulus  declared  earnestly  for  Fichte.  I 
was  often  at  his  house,  and  it  was  earnestly  talked 
of  there  whether  it  would  not  be  a  useful  thing  to 
draw  up  a  petition  of  the  students.  Almost  all  of 
these  were  from  a  distance.  Fichte's  celebrity  had 
drawn  the  majority  thither;  and  it  really  seemed  as 
if  they  had  the  right  to  ask  for  the  continuance  in 
office  of  the  teacher  who  had  drawn  them  together. 
I  drew  up  such  a  petition,  in  which  Fichte's  great 
service,  and  the  right  which  the  students  claimed, 
were  stated.  I  carried  it  to  Paulus.  He  adopted  it 
with  few  changes,  and  I  did  not  doubt  that  through 
the  influence  of  my  counti^yman,  Malte  Muller,  who 
exercised  a  great  influence  over  many  students,  it 
would  receive  a  large  number  of  names. 

In  the  mean  time  a  similar  course  was  struck  out 
at  Weimar.  Another  petition  was  drawn  up  in  the 
name  of  the  students,  in  which  the  duke  was  be- 
sought to  retain  Fichte  in  the  university.  But  the 
petition  contained,  also,  the  confession  that  Fichte 
had  expressed  himself  in  his  lectures  with  blame- 
worthy carelessness,  and  the  favor  of  the  duke  was 
implored  in  behalf  of  one  who  in  other  things  was 
so  honored  and  loved.  A  student  from  Rugen  re- 
ceived this  petition  through  the  hands  of  Hufeland, 
and  it  was  represented  to  him  that  Fichte  himself 
did  not  disapprove  of  the  manner  in  which  it  was 
drawn  up.  Anxious  to  be  of  service  to  Fichte  in 
any  way,  he  sought  to  obtain  names  for  the  petition, 
and  succeeded  in  a  manner  equal  to  his  hopes. 

I  found  a  young  man  to  whom  I  gave  the  peti- 
tion which  had  been  drawn  up  by  me,  and  told  him 


AN  INCIDENT  FROM  FICHTE'S  LIFE.  61 

to  carry  it  to  the  lecture-rooms,  and  wherever  else 
he  could  obtain  the  signatures  of  students.  He  had 
read  the  other  petition,  and  had  noticed  what  a 
different  impression  it  gave.  The  Rugen  student 
was  carrying  it  around,  and  had  already  obtained  a 
number  of  signatures,  for  the  students  had  no  hesi- 
tation about  giving  their  names.  I  was  amazed.  I 
snatched  up  my  petition  and  ran  around  to  find  the 
Rugen  student,  who  was  known  to  me.  I  met  him 
in  a  short  time  on  the  street,  hurrying  from  house  to 
house,  and  drew  him  aside.  I  was  excited  in  the 
highest  degree.  I  represented  to  him  that  through 
the  petition  which  he  was  carrying  round  victory 
was  granted  to  the  opponents  of  Fichte,  and  showed 
him  my  petition,  and  told  him  that  I  had  shoyved  it 
to  Professor  Paulus.  I  easily  gained  over  the'youn^ 
man,  and  all  the  more  readily  when  I  exhibited  to 
him  the  source  from  which  his  petition  came,  and 
made  him  acquainted  with  all  the  circumstances. 
He  was  now  wholly  won  over  to  my  side ;  he 
pressed  into  the  most  crowded  lecture-rooms,  con- 
fessed his  mistake,  and  easily  obtained  the  names 
of  the  young  men  on  the  paper  which  I  had  drawn 
up.  On  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day  my  petition 
lay  before  me  with  several  hundred  signatures,  and 
two  delegates  carried  it  at  once  to  Weimar  to  lay  it 
before  the  duke.  Hufeland,  the  jurist,  had  received 
from  Weimar  the  one^drawn  up  in  the  interest  of 
Fichte's  adversaries,  or  had  himself  drawn  it  up ; 
the  Rugen  student  had  received  it  as  I  knew  from 
his  hands.  I  was  invited  to  his  house  that  evening:. 
I  found  him  in  a  pet,  and  I  will  not  deny  that  I  took 


62  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREEE. 

a  kind  of  selfish  pleasure  in  the  thought  that  I  knew 
the  secret  of  his  trouble.  It  was  only  years  after- 
ward, when  I  read  the  Life  of  Fichte,  that  I  learned 
with  astonishment  that  two  petitions  were  sent  to 
the  duke.  Fichte's  adversaries  must,  therefore,  have 
succeeded  in  getting  some  names. 

I  expected  no  result  from  the  petition.  After 
some  days  the  students  were  called  together  by  the 
pro-rector,  and  informed  that,  by  the  decision  of  the 
Weimer  court,  Fichte  had  virtually  asked  for  his 
dismission  in  the  steps  which  he  had  taken. 

This  whole  circumstance  was  of  the  greatest  in- 
terest to  me  in  more  than  one  respect.  I  did  not, 
indeed,  see  Fichte  very  often ;  my  studies  and  my 
whole  mode  of  thought  removed  me  from  him. 
Yet  I'could  not  lielp  loving  him,  and  the  strength 
of  his  moral  convictions,  forming  as  they  did  the 
basis  of  his  whole  philosophy,  won  for  him  my  high 
respect.  It  was  very  easy  when  I  was  with  him 
to  be  drawn  into  talk  upon  his  metaphysical  sys- 
tem, and  even  to  debate  with  him  heartily.  Against 
the  rigidity  of  his  ideas  of  truth  I  had  much  to  say. 
Even  before  the  appearance  of  Jacobi's  letter  I  had  a 
hot  contest  with  him  for  the  J^iat  justitia^  pereat 
tnundus  ;  this  unswerving  way  of  stating  moral  truth 
was  contrary  to  my  nature.  When  I  heard  him  say 
that  under  no  condition  is  one  right  in  telling  an 
untruth,  I  ventured  to  propose  to  him  the  following 
case :  A  woman  with  her  child  is  dangerously  sick;  the 
infant,  in  a  dying  state,  lies  in  the  next  room.  The 
physicians  have  decisively  declared  that  any  excite- 
ment will  cost  her  her  life.    The  child  dies.    I  sit  at 


FICHTE  DRIVEN  FROM  JENA.  63 

the  bed  of  my  wife ;  she  asks  after  the  welfare  of  the 
little  one.  The  truth  will  kill  her ;  shall  it  be  told  ? 
*'  It  shall,"  answered  Fichte  ;  "  her  question  must  be 
answered."  "That  is,"  replied  I,  "speaking  exactly, 
your  child  is  dead.  I  would  lie,"  said  I ;  and  tears 
burst  from  my  eyes,  because  I  remembered  witness- 
ing just  such  a  scene,  "and  I  decidedly  call  this  lie 
a  truth,  my  truth."  "Your  truth,"  replied  Fichte, 
with  indignation  ;  "  there  is  none  such  belonging  to 
any  man  ;  truth  rules  over  you,  not  you  over  truth. 
If  the  wife  dies  with  the  telling  the  truth,  she  must 
die."  I  saw  the  impossibility  of  coming  to  a  mutual 
understanding  with  him  on  this  subject,  and  to  make 
clear  to  him  my  idea  of  what  would  be  right  in  such 
a  case.  With  all  the  rigidness  of  his  doctrine,  Fichte 
was  himself  the  most  kind-hearted  of  men.  I  was 
convinced  that  under  such  circumstances  he  himself 
would  lie,  and  remained  silent. 

I  had  now  lived  to  see  a  man  whom  I  honored 
and  loved,  charged  as  an  atheist,  and  driven  from 
his  post.  The  thing  which  had  shocked  me  when  I 
read  of  it  as  occurring  in  past  centuries  was  now 
taking  place  under  my  eyes,  and  in  the  very  circle 
of  my  friends.  All  the  recollections  of  my  child- 
hood awoke  again,  and  I  asked  myself  whether  the 
charge  which  was  brought  against  the  distinguished 
philosopher  was  completely  groundless  or  not.  That 
Fichte's  system  was  in  direct  line  with  that  of 
Kant,  I  could  plainly  see.  The  subjects  of  sure 
knowledge  exist  in  apparent  form  around  us ;  but 
philosophy  has  to  deal  with  truth.  The  moral  feel- 
ing and  its  expression,  the  conscience,  are  a  fact  of 


64  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

consciousness  as  much  as  space  and  time,  only  with 
this  important  difference,  that  the  things  taken  into 
cognizance  by  the  conscience  are  not  imaginary,  but 
exist  j^6r  se.  Besides,  it  could  not  be  predicated  of 
morals  that  they  exist  in  the  same  sense  in  which 
matter  exists ;  they  remain  evermore  a  Thou  shalt, 
but  as  such  they  are  outside  of  the  imagination,  and 
have  absolute  existence. 

I  remember  well  how  in  a  narrow  circle  of  inti- 
mate friends  Fichte  related  to  us  how  his  philoso- 
phy rose,  and  how  the  first  conception  of  it  entered 
his  mind.  It  had  long  seemed  to  him  that  truth 
lies  in  the  union  and  unity  of  thought  and  the  ob- 
ject of  thought ;  he  had  learned  that  this  unity  can 
never  be  found  within  the  domain  of  the  senses,  and 
that  where  it  does  appear,  as  in  the  mathematics,  it 
is  only  a  dull,  dead  formalism,  and  wholly  divorced 
from  life.  At  that  point  the  thought  suddenly  struck 
him  that  the  act  in  which  the  self-consciousness  con- 
ceives of  itself  is  yet  a  subject  of  our  knowledge. 
The  ego  recognizes  itself  through  its  own  manifesta- 
tion of  itself;  the  ego  thinking  and  the  ego  thought, 
the  know^ing  and  the  object  of  the  knowledge,  are 
one,  and  from  this  point  of  unity,  and  not  from  scat- 
tered elements,  time  and  space  and  the  postulates 
of  all  thought  proceed.  If,  then,  thought  he  to  him- 
self, I  can  grasp  this  first  act  of  self-knowledge,  pre- 
supposed as  it  is  in  all  human  thinking  and  doing, 
and  hidden  as  it  is  in  the  various  opinions  and  ac- 
tions of  men,  —  if  I  can  grasp  this  and  develop  it  in 
its  simple  clearness,  and  follow  it  to  its  last  results, 
must  there  not  be  displayed  in  it,  active,  and  work- 


FICHTE'S  PHILOSOPHY.  65 

ing,  that  same  certainty  which  we  now  possess  in 
mathematics  ?  This  thought  struck  him  with  such 
power  that  he  conceived  the  idea  to  make  the  ego 
the  basis  of  his  philosophy.  In  the  bookseller's  an- 
nouncement of  his  writings  it  was  declared  that 
Fichte  would  be  to  philosophy  what  Euclid  was  to 
mathematics.  I  do  not  know  that  this  expression 
was  ever  published  in  the  words  of  Fichte ;  but, 
after  I  had  heard  from  his  own  lips  the  account  of 
the  rise  of  his  philosophy,  I  felt  convinced  that  the 
announcements  contained  his  own  expressed  hopes 
of  the  place  which  he  was  to  fill. 

When  it  is  remembered  that  Fichte's  training 
was  under  Kant's  influence,  it  cannot  be  doubted 
that  the  master's  rigid  support  of  an  absolute,  un- 
bending morality  as  a  result,  and  not  a  means,  formed 
the  basis  and  the  leading  feature  in  the  independent 
action  of  the  ego^  and  that  what  he  borrowed  from 
Kant  must  become  clearer  and  clearer  in  the  system 
of  Fichte  himself  It  is  true  that  in  the  scheme  of 
the  latter  it  always  remained  a  thing  unexplained, 
and,  indeed,  incomprehensible,  how  the  moral  law, 
which  was  only  a  postulate,  having  its  mere  signifi- 
cance in  the  effort  to  realize  it,  rather  than  in  the 
possibility  of  doing  so,  could  come  to  be  a  positive 
guiding  principle,  an  active  thing  which  had  its 
value  in  its  own  reality.  Out  of  this  impossible 
conception  sprang  all  our  ideas.  And  so  there  lay 
at  the  basis  of  Fichte's  philosophy  a  real  mys- 
tery, unsolvable,  and,  indeed,  unapproachable;  and 
it  must  have  been  a  prime  object  with  him  to 
keep  those  subjects  which  pertain  to  the  domains 


66  THE  STOJiY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

of  things  known  and  intelligible  off  from  this 
more  mysterious  ground.  And  in  this  mystery- 
lay  Fichte's  rGod.  I  understood  this  well,  and  the 
charge  of  atheism,  now  brought  against  Fichte,  was 
to  me  a  sad  proof  of  the  poor  superficiality  of  the 
times ;  much  more  insignificant  was  this  exalted  and 
mysterious  God  of  morality  than  that  God  whom 
most  men  feared  rather  than  loved,  whom  they 
pushed  away  into  a  far  distant  domain,  where  he 
hid  himself  behind  laws  to  which  he  subjected  him- 
self no  less  than  us.  And  yet,  I  said  to  myself, 
thinking  it  all  over  in  my  own  mind,  that  is  not  the 
God  of  my  childhood,  whom  I  have  lost  and  whom 
I  seek  again. 

But  it  was  not  merely  this  suspicion  of  a  deeper 
divine  nature  which  separated  me  from  Fichte ;  in 
still  another  respect  we  were  wide  apart.  The  dis- 
crimination made  by  Kant  between  theoretical  and 
practical  philosophy,  the  confessed  uncertainty  of 
the  former,  and  the  empty  generalities  of  the  latter, 
I  opposed  with  my  inmost  soul.  And  yet  the  world 
contains  not  only  what  is  appreciable  to  the  senses, 
but  also  a  higher,  even  if  it  be  a  mysterious,  reality. 
This  latter  was  lost  sight  of  in  Fichte's  scheme.  It 
was  always  a  sad  thing  to  me  to  look  at  the  world 
from  his  point  of  view ;  there  was  no  tree,  no  liv- 
ing creature,  no  landscape  that  he  then  could  per- 
ceive in  all  its  beauty.  That  the  mystery  of  our 
spiritual  nature  is  not  only  found  in  human  thoughts 
and  deeds,  but  also  in  the  rich  fulness  of  the  imag- 
ination and  in  the  form  itself,  seemed  to  be  com- 
pletely hidden  from  him.     What  Kant  treated  as 


SECOND  RECEPTION  BY  GOETHE.  67 

phantasm,  to  Fichte  became  mere  negation,  and 
that  was  everything  which  was  not  the  ego^  and 
in  which  the  ego  manifested  itself.  The  fantastic 
image  remained,  and  that,  too,  in  perfect  distinct- 
ness, but  only  to  be  changed  through  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  ego  into  the  ego  itself.  In  other 
words,  the  servant  of  an  incomprehensible  law  is 
transformed  into  the  Titan  of  self-determination, 
and  even  into  the  Creator  of  heaven  and  of  earth. 
Such  a  philosophy  was  completely  contrary  to  my 
nature,  and  the  more  closely  I  comprehended  tt,  the 
more  willingly  I  rejected  it. 

Schelling's  system  is  doctrine  of  identity.  The 
unity  of  subjective  and  objective  in  the  conception 
of  ideas  was  more  kindred  to  my  taste,  trained  as  I 
had  been  in  the  school  of  Spinoza. 

It  was  not  without  sadness  that  I  left  Jena ;  and, 
although  the  tie  that  bound  me  to  the  distinguished 
men  there  was  too  purely  an  intellectual  one  to  be 
severed- by  mere  distance,  yet  I  felt  how  much  I  was 
losing.  I  travelled  by  way  of  Weimar,  and  visited 
Goethe,  who  gave  me  a  cordial  greeting,  although  I 
thouofht  I  could  detect  some  embarrassment  in  his 
manner.  He  seemed  to  be  acquainted  with  the  part 
which  I  had  taken  in  the  Fichte  affair,  and  the  Wei- 
mar court,  of  which  Goethe  was  a  leading  member, 
found  itself  in  an  unpleasant  dilemma ;  for  in  one 
point  of  view  it  felt  itself  bound  to  favor  that  free 
development  of  thought  of  which  Goethe  was  a 
most  distinguished  advocate ;  and  in  another  point 
of  view  it  was  necessarv  to  take  coojnizance  of  a 
charge,  which  was  a  serious  one  in  the  eyes  of  the 


68  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

duke,  the  court,  and  Goethe  himself.  Through  the 
pressure  of  all  the  Saxon  princes  demanding  his  dis- 
missal, Fichte  fell,  but  his  patrons  could  not  disguise 
a  certain  sense  of  shame  at  the  event.  Fichte,  the 
younger,  has  cited  passages  from  Goethe's  Recollec- 
tions of  his  own  Life,  and  expressions  found  in  his 
letters,  in  which  the  perplexity  of  the  Weimar  court 
appears,  and  especially  the  pain  which  Goethe  suf- 
fered at  being  a  participant  in  the  affair. 

When  I  left  Goethe  the  whole  course  of  events 
in  which  I  had  just  taken  a  part  rose  vividly  before 
my  eyes ;  and  a  mournful  suspicion  that  that  beau- 
tiful flower,  which  had  bloomed  with  such  fairness 
at  Jena,  was  now  to  have  its  petals  and  its  fragrance 
carried  away  on  all  the  random  winds  of  heaven, 
filled  me  with  unspeakable  sorrow. 

I  travelled  to  Halle  by  way  of  Leipsic,  and  now 
passed  the  Prussian  frontiers  for  the  first  time.  In 
Leipsic,  where  I  tarried  only  two  or  three  days,  I 
met  Malte  Brun,  who  wearied  me  with  hi6  dema- 
gogue-like talk.  He  had  been  banished  from  Den- 
mark ;  he  was  now  on  his  way  to  more  liberal 
France,  and  hoped  to  find  a  situation  in  Paris.  But 
his  representations  of  Prussia  were  not  without  effect 
upon  me.  He  represented  it  as  a  land  in  servitude ; 
the  great  army  he  thought  would  not  only  be  turned 
against  the  enemies  of  the  country,  but  against  the 
people  themselves ;  he  supposed  that  the  aristocracy 
would  be  oppressive  in  consequence  of  their  pride, 
and  officials  in  consequence  of  their  superciliousness. 
I  had  heard  so  much  of  this  kind  of  talk  that  my 
breath  almost  choked  me  as  I  approached  the  fron- 


GLOOMY  ENTRANCE  INTO  HALLE.  69 

tiers,  and  my  first  impressions  were  accidentally 
very  unfavorable.  I  was  shut  up  in  an  uncomfort- 
able post- wagon,  and  jolted  till  I  was  mellow.  The 
country  around  Halle  seemed  desolate ;  the  day  was 
foggy  and  rainy,  and  the  wind  whistled  over  the 
fields.  When  we  were  quite  near  the  city  a  fellow- 
traveller  pointed  a  gallows  out  to  me.  A  part  of 
the  town  lying  around  was  called  "  Before-the-Gal- 
lows-Gate."  We  drove  through  this  barrier  of  dis- 
mal name,  and  traversed  a  long,  dark  street,  whose 
high,  gloomy,  dirty  houses  were  most  unpleasant 
to  see.  This  was  called  the  Gallows  Street.  But 
we  had  to  go  yet  further  to  the  stage-office,  and 
my  companion  pointed  me  out  a  second  gallows, 
which  stood  upon  the  market-place,  and  on  which 
the  names  of  soldiers  who  had  suffered  there  were 
inscribed.  I  instinctively  put  ray  hand  to  my  throat 
to  see  if  it  was  safe.  I  felt  like  a  criminal  on  his 
way  to  execution.  We  arrived  at  the  stage-office  ; 
baggage-teams  and  post- wagons  with  their  passen- 
gers were  there ;  it  was  the  time  of  the  Fair,  and 
there  was  much  travel  through  Halle.  The  post- 
wagon  was  cleared,  the  trunks  of  the  passengers  were 
stacked  side  by  side  ;  but  we  saw  the  custom-house 
officers  so  busy  with  the  baggage-wagons,  and  with 
the  goods  of  other  travellers,  that  we  had  little  pros- 
pect of  being  attended  to  for  hours.  I  tried  to 
keep  my  patience,  but  I  felt  a  deep  bitterness  boil- 
ing within  me  which  I  could  hardly  suppress.  I  bit 
my  lips  together,  and  walked  silent  to  and  fro.  The 
officials  may  have  observed  my  humor.  After  what 
seemed  to  me  a  short  eternity  our  turn  came.    I  put 


70  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

on  a  cheerful  mien,  walked  politely  to  one  of  the 
custom-house  officers,  and  asked  him  to  release  me 
as  soon  as  possible.  He  gave  me  a  savage  look,  an- 
swered not  a  word,  and  turned  his  back  upon  me.  I 
was  the  very  last  to  be  served ;  but  now  my  mad- 
ness had  reached  its  highest  point.  The  official 
commanded  me  to  open  my  trunk,  and  asked  in  an 
authoritative  way  whether  there  were  any  dutiable 
goods  in  it.  I  answered  not  a  word.  He  repeated 
the  question  in  a  loud  and  almost  threatening  tone. 
I  held  my  peace,  and  opened  the  trunk.  The  things 
were  now  examined  with  the  most  rigorous  exact- 
ness ;  clothes,  linen,  and  books  were  laid  upon  the 
trunks  around,  and  the  examination  of  my  effects 
took  a  longer  time  than  that  of  all  the  other  passen- 
gers together.  My  defiant  air  had  displeased  the 
official,  and  he  wanted  to  punish  me.  I  looked  on 
with  assumed  calmness ;  they  found  nothing.  When 
the  examination  was  at  an  end,  I  began  to  pack  my 
things  very  slowly  and  with  great  care.  "Hurry 
up,"  cried  the  custom-house  man,  tartly ;  "  you  see 
that  you  are  in  the  way."  "  That  is  not  my  fault," 
I  answered,  coolly.  "Aren't  you  ready  yet?"  he 
asked,  threateningly.  "Sir,"  said  I  now,  "I  am  a 
traveller  from  a  distant  country.  I  am  journeying 
under  the  protection  of  my  king.  I  have  said  not  a 
word  that  could  offend  you.  I  carry  no  contraband 
goods ;  my  person  can  excite  no  suspicion ;  and  yet 
you  have  treated  me  unhandsomely  ami  impolitely ; 
you  have  robbed  me  of  hours  which  I  might  have 
better  spent ;  you  have  torn  all  my  goods  from  the 
trunk.    Now  it  is  my  turn.     I  claim  the  right  to 


MORE   FAVORABLE  IMPRESSIOXS.  71 

take  care  of  my  own  property.  I  must  look  care- 
fully to  see  whether,  in  the  haste  of  unpacking, 
something  may  not  have  fallen  among  the  chests 
and  packages;  my  linen  and  clothes  must  be  laid 
back  without  a  fold ;  just  now  I  happen  to  have 
time,  and  shall  stay  here  till  I  am  ready  to  go." 
The  official  seemed  to  have  a  great  desire  to  use 
force  upon  me.  I  assured  him  coolly  that  I  should 
carry  it  to  the  last  extremity,  and  that  the  least 
violence  done  to  my  person  would  be  reported  by 
the  ambassador  to  my  king. 

Some  of  my  fellow-travellers  were  still  there,  and 
I  called  them  in  as  witnesses.  The  official  walked 
growling  up  and  down.  I  got  through  at  last,  and 
when  I  left  the  stage-office  I  felt  like  a  stranger  in  a 
foreign  land.  Such  an  unfriendly  greeting  did  I 
receive  from  the  country  to  which  I  was  about  to 
dedicate  the  best  powers  of  my  life. 

I  tarried  a  few  days  in  Halle,  and  confess  that,  as 
I  came  in  contact  with  the  scholars  of  the  place,  my 
first  impressions  gave  way  to  more  favorable  ones. 
The  new  king  (Frederick  William  III.)  had  just 
taken  a  tour  of  propitiation  through  his  territories, 
and  the  enthusiasm  with  which  he  had  been  re- 
ceived knew  no  bounds.  The  universal  talk  was 
about  him.  Much,  yes,  everything,  was  expected  of 
him,  -of  his  honesty  and  of  his  knowledge  of  the 
times  and  their  demands.  The  queen,  the  beautiful 
Louisa,  whose  genius  was  prized,  and  whose  purity 
was  admired,  was  almost  the  object  of  worship  to 
the  people.  Wherever  I  went  I  was  sure  to  hear 
the  praises  of  the  royal  pair.     Landlord  and  boots 


72  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

at  the  inn,  merchants  in  the  stores,  every  man  wi^h 
whom  I  came  in  contact,  had  his  word  on  the  king's 
excellent  sense  and  the  queen's  beauty  and  loveli- 
ness. ISTow  how  different  the  country  looked  to  me ; 
how  changed  the  people  appeared;  how  speedily 
vanished  that  darker  impression  with  which  I  en- 
tered the  kingdom,  and  how  much  I  found  to  prize 
in  this  new  land  ! 

While  in  Halle,  I  visited  the  house  of  Professor 
Reinhold  Forster,  the  distinguished  circumnaviga- 
tor of  the  globe,  and  the  father  of  a  son  to  be  yet 
more  noted  as  a  traveller,  George  Forster.  Profes- 
sor Forster  had  very  recently  died,  and  I  was  per- 
mitted to  examine  the  valuable  collections  which  he 
left,  and  to  use  his  extensive  library.  Little  thought 
I  that  I  was  to  be  his  successor. 

I  made  the  acquaintance  of  Reichardt,  the  dis- 
tinguished musical  composer.  He  lived  in  the  little 
village  of  Giebichenstein,  just  outside  of  the  walls  of 
Halle.  The  daughter,  afterwards  to  be  so  near  to 
me,  was  at  Hamburg,  and  I  did  not  meet  her,  but  I 
was  often  at  her  father's,  where  I  always  received  a 
cordial  welcome.  Reichardt  was  then  just  on  the 
point  of  going  to  Berlin  to  bring  out  his  opera  of 
Brennus.  He  was  strongly  inclined  to  democratic 
ideas,  and  this  put  him  not  only  under  the  ban  of 
government,  but  exposed  him  to  the  bitter  attacks 
of  Goethe,  and  to  harshness  from  the  Schlegels. 
But  hard  as  was  the  treatment,  and  severe  as  were 
the  charges  which  he  received  in  consequence  of  his 
leaning  to  democracy,  my  heart  went  out  towards 
him,  and  in  his  house  I  was  always  received  as  a 


REICHARDT.  73 

friend.     Reichardt  gave  me  his  Berlin  address,  and 
urged  me  to  visit  him,  when  I  should  come  thither. 
Thus  had  I,  without  my  knowledge,  been  wel- 
come within  the  homes  of  my  predecessor  in  the 
professor's  chair  and  of  my  father-in-law. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

STEFFENS'S  FIRST  VISIT  TO  BERLIN  --  BERLIN  •—  MEETS  TIECK  — 
STEFFENS  IN  A  STRAIT  PLACE  — FREIBERG  — WERNER,  THE  MIN- 
ERALOGIST—LIFE AT  FREIBERG  —  VISITS  DRESDEN  — THE  GAL- 
LERY AT  DRESDEN  —  FREEDOM  OF  LIFE  AT  FREIBERG  —  STEF- 
FENS'S  MANNER  WITH  OPPONENTS  — REFLECTIONS  ON  ART  — OLD 
GERMAN  POETRY  —  DISCOVERY  OF  THE  VOLTAIC  PILE  —  STEF- 
FENS'S   FIRST    BOOK. 

• 

I  LEFT  Halle  after  some  days,  and  came,  in  the 
month  of  May,  1799,  to  Berlin.  Whoever  is  old 
enough  to  remember  Berlin  as  it  was  at  the  close 
of  the  last  century,  would  scarcely  recognize  it  now. 
The  suburbs,  the  city,  the  people,  are  all  changed. 
I  came  thither  with  the  most  favorable  preposses- 
sions, and  yet  I  was  surprised  at  the  grandeur  of 
Potsdam,  and  the  Prussian  capital,  and  the  splendor 
of  the  edifices.  !N"o  one  can  enter  Berlin  at  the 
Potsdam  gate  and  not  be  impressed  with  the  view. 
After  being  set  down  from  the  stage  in  which  I 
had  rode  for  two  days  and  a  night,  I  thanked  God, 
and  hurried  to  the  Black  Eagle,  and  was  glad  to 
touch  a  bed.     I  do  not  know  how  long  I  slept. 

I  had  no  address  in  Berlin ;  I  knew  no  one,  and 
had  nothing  which  I  could  use  to  secure  acquaint- 
ances, but  the  invitation  of  Reichardt  to  visit  him 
at  his  lodgings.  I  did  not  hasten  to  avail  myself  of 
it.     The  day  after  my  arrival  I  found  a  room  in  the 

74 


STEFFENS'S  FIRST   VISIT  TO  BERLiy.  75 

Konigstrasse.*  My  landlord  supposed  I  had  come  to 
the  city  to  see  the  great  spring  military  review.  In 
Leipsic,  in  Halle,  everywhere, I  had  heard  people  talk- 
ing about  this  review.  My  landlord  was  astonished 
at  my  telling  him  that  I  cared  nothing  for  it.  The 
regiments  passed  under  my  window  the  next  day.  I 
scarcely  looked  at  them ;  and  yet  I  must  confess  that 
the  precision  displayed,  the  perfect  drill,  struck  me 
strongly.  I  had  in  my  own  land  seen  armies  trained 
for  use  in  times  of  war,  and  not  for  display  in  times 
of  peace ;  so  beautiful  an  exhibition  of  military 
pomp  I  had  never  seen.  And  yet  I  could  not  think 
with  satisfaction  on  a  land  over  which  such  an  im- 
mense and  perfectly  trained  army  domineered,  and 
whose  liberties  might  be  subverted  at  the  bidding 
of  a  general.  It  seemed  as  if  a  nation  which  moved 
always  under  the  shadow  of  such  an  army  must 
grow  into  a  shackled  and  servile  manner  of  thought. 
I  tried  to  get  rid  of  such  reflections,  but  I  could  not 
shake  them  off. 

A  young  man  who  came  to  Berlin  in  those  days 
was  compelled  to  resort  to  a  frivolous  and  profitless 
way  of  spending  his  time,  such  as  now  is  no  longer 
demanded.  The  young  men  whose  acquaintance  I 
incidentally  made  at  the  public  places  were  not  at  all 
to  my  taste.  I  did  not  hasten  to  look  up  Reichardt, 
and  spent  a  number  of  days  entirely  alone.  Every 
one  fl|ust  confess  that  the  street  Unter  den  Linden, 
as  one  looks  through  the  Brandenburg  gate  towards 
the  palace,  gives  an  almost  unrivalled  view.  There 
is  hardly  another  city  where  so  many  splendid  build- 
ings are  crowded  into  the  same  space ;  the  impres- 


76  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

sion  which  the  whole  gives  cannot  be  forgotten. 
As  I  wandered  hither  and  thither,  my  mind  was 
full  of  thoughts  of  this  new  city,  so  lately  made 
prominent  in  European  affairs,  the  capital  of  a  king- 
dom so  young,  and  which  must  have  such  a  part  yet 
to  play  in  the  history  of  the  world.  For  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  felt  that  I  was  confronting  objects 
of  huger  magnitude  and  vaster  interests  than  I  had 
ever  mingled  with.  My  previous  life  seemed  con- 
tracted and  mean,  and  I  could  not  persuade  myself 
to  make  new  acquaintances  while  I  could  muse  on 
the  great  drama  of  European  history.  The  very 
magnitude  of  the  city  oppressed  me.  The  broad, 
regular  streets  repelled  me,  and  all  the  impressions 
with  which  I  came  to  the  city  were  reversed. 

Of  course  there  was  with  all  this  an  attractive 
side.  Only  twenty-six  years  had  passed  away  since 
the  Seven  Years'  War;  it  was  not  more  remote  to  me 
when  I  was  in  Berlin  than  the  Napoleonic  wars  are 
to  me  as  I  write  these  lines  to-day.  In  earlier  times 
I  had  been  a  great  admirer  of  Frederick  the  Great, 
and  although  the  French  Revolution,  occurring  in 
my  youth,  had  somewhat  crowded  him  out  of  mind, 
yet,  when  at  Berlin,  the  old  feelings  of  admiration 
arose  in  their  strength,  as  I  looked  npon  a  city 
which  was  to  a  good  extent  the  work  of  his  hands. 
Filled  with  these  thoughts,  I  traversed  the  city  in 
all  directions.  I  visited  the  Cabinet  of  Miiprals, 
the  Botanic  Garden,  the  Veterinary  School,  passing 
everywhere  as  a  young  man  visiting  the  curiosities 
of  the  place.  I  called  upon  no  distinguished  per- 
sonages, I  made  no  interesting  acquaintances.    Fred- 


REICHARDT,  THE  MUSICAL  COMPOSER.  11 

erick  Schlegel  had  left  Berlin,  Schleiermacher  I  did 
not  visit ;  Tieck  I  fell  in  with  by  accident.  This 
proud  presence  of  Pr^issia's  might  was  so  baneful  to 
me  that  I  even  felt  as  a  stranger  to  myself  The 
Thiergarten  was  the  place  I  loved  most;  its  soli- 
tudes strongly  attracted  me. 

I  was  several  weeks  in  Berlin  before  I  called  on 
Reichardt.  He  was  very  busy.  Parts  of  his  Bren- 
nus  were  to  be  given  as  a  concert,  and  he  was  very 
busy  in  the  preparation.  I  had  heard  much  about 
Reichardt,  his  skill  as  a  composer,  his  ability  as  a 
writer,  and  his  large  circle  of  acquaintances.  He 
had  lived  at  court,  I  heard,  and  had  exerted  large 
influence,  rather,  however,  in  favor  of  others  than 
in  his  own  behalf  Almost  everybody  knew  him. 
Every  one  whom  I  met  had  at  some  time  or  other 
had  relations  with  him.  Almost  all  the  men  of  emi- 
nence in  Germany,  men  of  the  most  varied  natures, 
had  been  or  were  still  his  friends.  With  Lavater  and 
with  Goethe  he  had  long  been  on  terms  of  intimacy. 
He  had  lived  in  France  during  the  Revolution,  and 
was  acquainted  with  the  leaders.  His  strong  demo- 
cratic leanings  had  made  him  obnoxious  to  the  court, 
and,  having  been  made  director  of  the  Salt  Works 
at  Halle,  he  lived  at  Giebichen stein  in  a  kind  of 
exile ;  and  yet  he  made  his  home  a  centre  of  the 
most  generous  hospitality.  People  spoke  warmly 
of  the  amiability  of  his  family.  No  man  of  emi- 
nence came  to  Halle  without  visiting  him.  Minis- 
ters, generals,  even  princes,  alighted  at  his  door. 
To  be  noticed  by  him  as  I  had  been  was  no  slight 
honor.      And  when  at  last  I  called  upon  him  in 


78  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Berlin,  I  was  astonished  to  learn  how  much  he  had 
been  interested  in  me.  He  told  me  that  he  had  in- 
quired for  me  at  the  hotel  where  I  had  first  lodged, 
but  in  vain  ;  and  that  he  had  wished  to  know  my 
lodgings  that  he  might  introduce  me  into  general 
society.  I  could  only  thank  him,  while  I  did  not 
say  that  I  had  a  secret  pleasure  in  my  solitary  wan- 
derings through  the  city,  and  in  my  meditations  on 
Prussian  history.  At  Reichardt's  invitation,  how- 
ever, I  was  a  guest  at  a  brilliant  supper,  where  I  met 
Tieck,  the  poet,  novelist,  and  sculptor.  He  was,  in 
external  appearance,  a  handsome,  slim  man ;  his 
clear  eye  full  of  fire,  his  features  expressive,  while 
his  judgments,  given  during  the  evening,  were  sharp 
and  cutting,  full  of  sense  and  power. 

During  the  last  days  of  my  stay  in  Berlin,  I  met 
with  a  little  adventure  which  did  not  tend  to  ele- 
vate the  character  of  the  people  of  that  city  in  my 
sight.  My  allowance  for  travelling  expenses  was  not 
meagre,  and  it  had  held  out  till  now ;  but  I  forgot 
to  send  for  a  remittance  till  my  last. copper  was 
spent,  and  I  was  in  considerable  perplexity  for  want 
of  money.  I  had  fallen  into  the  sam,e  trouble  while 
on  my  foot  tour  through  the  Thuringian  Mountains, 
but  had  been  most  unexpectedly  relieved  by  falling 
in  with  an  old  Norwegian  schoolmate.  I  could  not 
hope  to  be  so  fortunate  again.  I  could  not  expect  a 
remittance  for  some  weeks.  In  Berlin  I  knew  no 
one,  for  Reichardt  had  returned  to  Halle.  So  at 
last  I  resolved  to  sell  my  watch,  which  was  of 
some  value.  A  stranger  as  I  was  in  the  city,  I 
might  have  gone  to  the  nearest  watchmaker  with- 


STEFFENS  IN  A  STRAIT  PLACE.  79 

out  being  known.  But  shame  held  me  back,  and  I 
felt  compelled  to  find  one  in  the  most  distant  quar- 
ter of  the  city.  So  I  walked  from  King  Street, 
where  my  room  was,  to  the  upper  part  of  William 
Street,  near  the  Halle  gate,  and  when  I  found  a 
watchmaker's  shop,  I  went  stealthily  in,  feeling  like 
a  thief,  and  offered  to  sell  him  my  watch.  He  put 
me  coarsely  off,  while  I  noticed  that  he  carefully 
scrutinized  it.  At  last  he  named  a  sum  which  was 
so  insignificant  that  I  indignantly  demanded  the 
watch.  But  he  coolly  retained  it,  looked  at  me 
from  top  to  toe,  asked  my  name,  and  where  I  had 
got  the  watch.  "You  are  a  stranger  to  me,"  he 
said,  "  and  I  do  not  know  how  you  may  have  come 
into  possession  of  the  article."  How  I  winced  under 
his  words  I  cannot  express.  I  could  not  have  felt 
more  disgraced  if  I  had  actually  stolen  the  watch. 
I  really  believed  it  necessary  to  give  him  a  false 
name.  But  the  man  had  gained  his  point;  he  had 
shamed  me  into  horror.  He  gave  me  a  trifling  sum 
of  money,  and,  full  of  humiliation,  I  left  the  shop, 
my  watch  gone,  and  only  a  pittance  for  it  sufficient 
for  the  wants  of  a  few  days.  The  next  day,  as  I 
was  sitting  down  to  dinner  at  the  Black  Eagle 
Inn,  full  of  thought  and  perplexity,  I  discovered  an 
old  Norwegian  friend.  Was  ever  such  good  for- 
tune !  He  had  ample  means,  and  was  ready  to  help 
me  at  once.  After  I  had  recounted  to  him  my  ad- 
venture of  the  day  before,  we  started  together  for 
the  watchmaker's.  I  hoped  to  get  my  watch  back. 
I  confessed  that  I  had  given  a  false  name  to  him, 
showed  him  my  passport,  offered  him  more  than  he 


80  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

had  given  me,  doubled  tlie  sum,  but  all  in  vain.  He 
kept  the  watch.  His  cold-blooded  manner,  as  he 
refused  to  surrender  the  article,  enraged  me  more 
than  the  loss  of  the  watch.  I  did  not  know  then, 
as  I  did  afterwards,  that  the  law  would  have  given 
it  back  to  me  at  once,  and  so  I  lost  it ;  yet,  to  con- 
fess the  truth,  it  was  not  long  before  I  forgot  the 
whole  affair. 

By  and  by  the  expected  money  came  from  Copen- 
hagen, and  I  left  Berlin  for  Freiberg. 

Certainly  the  first  impressions  of  this  city  of  mi- 
ners were  by  no  means  agreeable.  The  mountains 
around  had  a  dreary,  desolate  look,  and  the  creaking 
of  signs,  and  solemn  tolling  of  a  bell  in  some  lofty 
tower,  intimidated  me.  The  prospect  of  making  a 
long  delay  in  Freiberg  seemed  gloomy  enough.  But 
after  I  had  left  the  inn,  and  had  found  myself  com- 
fortably quartered  in  lodgings,  the  feeling  of  dis* 
content  soon  wore  away,  and  the  city  did  not  seem 
so  dismal.  The  new  occupation  which  was  to  en- 
gross me,  the  going  into  the  very  bowels  of  the 
earth,  and  laboring  there  for  scientific  ends,  raised 
my  curiosity,  and  I  hastened  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  the  two  most  eminent  men  of  the  city, 
Charpentier  and  Werner.  I  was  not  entirely  un- 
known to  them  by  name,  for  my  paper  on  Mineral- 
ogy and  its  Study  had  awakened  some  interest  in 
Freiberg. 

The  Mineralogical  School  of  this  city  was  now 
in  its  full  glory.  Werner  stood  confessedly  at  the 
head  of  his  science  in  Europe,  and  was  even  re- 
garded as  its  founder.    No  one  could  compare  with 


WERNER,   THE  MINERAL  OGIST.  81 

him  in  the  knowledge  of  fossils,  and  Linnaeus  never 
stood  more  preeminently  at  the  head  of  botany  than 
did  Werner  at  the  head  of  mineralogy.  It  was 
conceded  that  the  Neptunists  had  gained  a  deci^^ 
sive  victory  over  the  Yulcanists.  From  all  parts 
of  Europe  and  America^  mineralogists  streamed  to 
Freiberg.  Humboldt,  Leopold  von  Buch,  Esmark 
the  Norwegian,  Elyar  the  Mexican,  Andrada  the 
Brazilian,  had  been  there  a  few  years  before.  .1 
found  L'ishmen,  Scotchmen,  and  Frenchmen  there, 
some  of  whom  afterwards-  gained  great  eminence. 
Werner  was  then  in  the  prime  of  his  power,  and. 
was  forty-nine  years  old. 

He  was  a  man  of  remarkable  personal  qualities, 
and  gained  an  admirer  in  me  at  our  first  interviewi 
He  was  of  medium  height,  and  broad-shouldered  ; 
his  round,  pleasant  face  did  not  promise  much  at 
fii^t,  and  yet  he  commanded  the  attention  of  every 
one  who  addressed  him.  His  eye  was  fiery;  his 
features  were  full  of  expression  when  he  spoke;  his 
voice  had  a  certain  sharpness  which  was  not  so 
agreeable,  but  every  word  was  well  considered  ; 
the  utmost  clearness  of  conception  and  precision 
of  thought  were  manifest  in  every  sentence.  And 
with  all  this  he  had  so  much  goodness  that  he  won 
all  hearts. 

Werner  suffered  from  an  affection  of  the  stomach  ; 
he  was,  therefore,  obliged  to  be  very  careful  of  his 
health.  His  clothing  was  very  warm,  and  he  always 
wore  fur  over  his  bowels.  The  cUmate  in  Freiberg 
is  certainly  rude,  but  I  confessed  I  was  not  a  little 
astonished  to  find  him,  in  the  month  of  July,  keep- 


82  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

ing  a  fire  in  his  room.  He  was  in  all  things  most 
punctual,  even  to  pedantry.  He  used  to  carry  fa- 
vorite scholars  of  his  in  his  carriage  to  see  some 
new  and  interesting  field  of  inquiries.  He  was  most 
exact  about  the  time  of  starting ;  no  one  might 
come  a  minute  too  early,  no  one  a  minute  too  late. 
If  you  came  too  early,  he  would  look  at  you  inquir- 
ingly, then  at  his  watch,  and  then  go  on  with  hia 
work ;  if  you  came  too  late,  even  but  a  very  few 
minutes,  you  would  find  him  standing  on  the  stair- 
case, with  his  overcoat  and  fur  collar  in  his  hand, 
waiting  for  you.  I  used  to  be  very  particular  to 
keep  my  watch  exactly  with  his.  I  loved  this  great 
man  with  my  whole  heart,  and  he  in  turn  was  very 
kind  to  me,  and  cautioned  me  very  faithfully  about 
my  own  health. 

I  remember  one  circumstance  in  connection  with 
Werner  which  I  shall  not  forget.  His  collection 
of  precious  stones  was  one  of  the  most  perfect  in 
Europe.  In  one  of  his  lectures  a  drawer  was  passed 
round,  containing  jaspers.  Every  one,  knowing  Wer- 
ner's great  care,  handled  the  drawer  with  the  utmost 
delicacy,  lest  it  should  fall  or  be  overturned.  Acci- 
dentally it  was  struck  by  some  one's  arm ;  the  gems 
were  thrown  into  confusion,  and  for  an  instant  it 
seemed  as  if  some  would  fly  out.  It  was  an  anxious 
moment.  Werner  turned  pale,  and  could  not  speak. 
Happily  no  harm  was  done.  It  was  seven  or  eight 
minutes  before  Werner  could  command  his  voice. 
"Do  not  be  offended,  gentlemen,  that  I  am  so 
much  affected ;  in  case  of  loss  to  my  gems,  the 
world  could  not  replace  them."     The  lecture  was  at 


WERNER  AS  A   TEACHER.  83 

an  end.  Werner  was  not  seen  for  two  or  three 
days ;  it  was  only  by  degrees  that  he  could  recover 
from  such  a  shock. 

Werner's  great  scientific  excellence  lay  in  his 
sharp  discrimination  of  little  points.  No  one  could 
be  clearer  than  he  about  all  details.  He  compelled 
his  hearers  to  equally  exact  habits ;  they  must  no- 
tice even  the  nicest  shades  and  the  minutest  varia- 
tions of  form.  Though  he  did  not  use  mathematical 
formulae  in  his  classifications,  yet  he  had  a  simple 
way  of  attaining  almost  as  much  exactness  as  if  he 
had  used  them.  His  main  excellence  as  a  teacher 
lay  in  his  demanding  the  closest  attention  to  his 
views.  If  any  scholar  of  his  was  about  to  make  a 
mineralogical  tour,  Werner  prepared  a  schedule  of 
investigation  for  him,  and  expected  that  it  would  be 
followed  to  the  letter.  Whoever  would  profit  by 
Werner's  instruction  must  be  undividedly  Werner's 
disciple.  The  master  so  bound  everything  together 
in  his  system,  that  the  scholar  could  not  give  up 
one  point  without  seeing  the  whole  fabric  totter. 
I  have  never  seen  another  man  who*  held  others 
in  absolute  subjection  to  his  views.  And  he  long 
lived  to  see  his  authority  everywhere  confessed. 
But  it  pained  him  in  his  old  age  to  see  the  sceptre 
passing  from  his  hands  and  new  views  usurping  the 
place  of  his  own. 

It  is  singular  how  rarely  men  are  able  to  express 
an  accurate  judgment  upon  the  true  place  wJiich  an 
eminent  scholar  ought  to  take  in  history.  Some  are 
able  to  realize  the  condition  of  science  in  times  ear- 
lier than  their  own,  and  to  make  allowance  for  the 


84  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

obstacles  which  impeded  great  discoverers.  They 
are  able  to  prize  at  a  true  value  the  merit  of  a  man 
like  Werner,  who  not  only  lays  the  foundation  of  a 
new  branch  of  science,  but  who  develops  it  till  it 
fills  a  large  place  in  the  eyes  of  men.  Werner  was 
to  mineralogy  what  Linnsous  was  to  zoology  and 
botany.  He  found  all  his  materials  in  the  rudest 
state ;  he  harmonized  them  and  brought  from  them 
system  and  profit.  And  even  the  victories  which 
were  gained  over  him  were  gained  by  weapons  which 
Werner  had  himself  furnished  to  his  antagonists. 
He  published  few  books ;  but  he  committed  his 
name  and  his  reputation  to  hundreds  of  scholars, 
who  will  see  that  he  receives  only  honor. 

My  life  in  Freiberg  assumed  new  charms  daily.  I 
had  become  intimate  in  the  family  of  Werner's  great 
rival,  the  eminent  Charpentier,  one  of  whose  daugh- 
ters was  married  to  General  Thielemann,  of  the 
Saxon  army,  one  to  Dr.  Reinhardt,  the  court  preach- 
er, of  Dresden,  while  still  another  was  betrothed 
to  Hardenberg,  or  Novalis,  to  use  the  name  most 
current  in  literature.  My  relations  with  the  for- 
eigners then  at  Freiberg  were  very  agreeable.  I 
was,  indeed,  very  happy.  I  bought  me  a  miner's 
suit,  and  could  then  go  everywhere.  Twice  every 
week  I  made  a  visit  into  the  mines.  Werner  ad- 
vised me  where  to  commence,  and  in  which  direc- 
tion to  proceed.  This  subterranean  world  had  great 
attractions  for  me.  It,  indeed,  cost  me  much  toil  to 
work  on  in  the  gloom,  to  study  fossils  and  layers  of 
rock,  lighted  only  by  the  dim  lamp  which  the  miners 
use,  and  to  bring  out  from  moisture  and  dirt  the 


STEFF^NS'S  LIFE  AT  FREIBERG.  85 

materials  which  I  must  examine.  Hard  it  was,  at 
the  outset  abnost  impossible,  to  follow  the  strata, 
and  to  see  where  they  crossed  and  diverged  again. 
And  yet  it  was,  indeed,  a  romantic  kind  of  life  to  go 
down  steep  ladders  into  the  earth,  to  see  the  blue 
sky  fade  away,  to  hear  the  wheels  turning  to  pump 
up  the  waste  water,  and  to  hear  the  melancholy 
sound  of  the  bell  which  strikes  at  each  revolution. 
By  and  by  I  arrived  at  the  most  distant  excava- 
tions. Strangers  who  came  to  Freiberg  to  study 
were  admitted  to  all  the  mines  excepting  those 
which  contain  cobalt  and  arsenic.  I  found  that 
this  curious  life  did  not  lose  its  romantic  air  by  fa- 
miliarity with  it,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  only  grew 
in  attractiveness.  There  was,  indeed,  hardly  any 
limit  to  my  researches,  for  the  ground  was  excava- 
ted for  miles  around  the  city.  The  mines  had  been 
worked  for  five  hundred  years,  and  old  shafts,  run- 
ning either  perpendicularly  or  obliquely,  and  worked 
either  partly  or  wholly,  were  everywhere  to  be  found. 
My  fancy  was,  indeed,  powerfully  stimulated  at 
Freiberg.  When  thousands  of  years  have  passed, 
what,  I  asked  myself,  will  be  left  as  a  memorial  of 
our  times  ?  What,  that  can  be  compared  with  Susa 
and  Palmyra,  with  the  Greek  and  Roman  ruins, 
roads,  and  aqueducts  ?  Our  slightly-built  cities  will 
not  exhibit  a  trace  of  what  they  were,  our  palaces 
will  crumble,  and  our  great  factories  will  as  thor- 
oughly have  passed  away  as  their  fabrics  themselves. 
Here  and  there  the  ruins  of  a  church,  built  in  the 
middle  ages,  will  testify  to  past  architectural  skill, 
but  everything  else  which  now  looks  so  permanent 


86  THE  STOUT  OF  MY  CAREER. 

will  have  vanished.  But  even  then  these  mines  will 
testify  to  the  labors  of  this  age ;  these  long  shafts 
will  bear  witness  to  the  skill  and  patience  and  great 
achievements  of  our  times.  Such  fancies  as  these 
interested  me  greatly,  and  the  life  of  the  miners 
themselves  had  some  attractions.  They  were  a  sim- 
ple, peaceable  race,  very  poor,  and  quite  happy,  but 
unable  to  lay  up  much  store  for  the  future.  Of 
poetic  fancy  they  did  not  seem  to  possess  much. 
But  everything  connected  with  the  mines  inter- 
ested me.  I  studied  under  Kohler's  directions  into 
the  development  of  the  once  rich  deposits  of  min- 
eral wealth.  It  was  plain  that  once  the  precious 
metals  could  be  gleaned  from  the  very  surface  of 
the  ground.  I  saw  how  they  had  lessened  and  les- 
sened down  to  the  present  time,  till  at  last  the  toil 
of  many  days  often  yielded  but  little  return.  So, 
studying  into  all  these  things,  the  desolate  aspect  of 
the  city  and  its  surroundings  did  not  trouble  me, 
and,  cheerless  as  they  were,  I  was  happy. 

To  speak  the  whole  truth,  only  half  of  my  mind 
was  at  Freiberg,  the  other  half  was  at  Jena.  I 
kept  up  a  correspondence  with  friends  there,  espe- 
cially with  Schelling,  and  from  him  I  learned  all 
that  was  transpiring.  Meanwhile,  Werner's  scien- 
tific views  grew  in  value  to  me.  They  contained 
elements  on  which  I  worked,  and  from  which  I  was 
gradually  evolving  a  system  of  ray  own.  I  commu- 
nicated all  that  I  thought  to  Werner.  A  man  so 
set  in  his  views  as  he  was  could  not  be  happy  at 
meeting  ideas  which  at  all  conflicted  with  or  were 
an  outgrowth  from  his  own.     He  spoke  out  his  dis- 


LIFE  IN  FEE  IB  ERG.  87 

content,  and  his  suspicion  that  there  might  some- 
thing grow  out  of  my  system  which  might  weaken 
public  confidence  in  his  theories.  And  yet,  despite 
this,  my  intimacy  with  him  grew  closer.  The  esteem 
which  I  felt  for  him  as  a  man,  the  respect  which  I 
had  for  his  devotion  to  his  special  department,  even 
the  hope  that  his  own  views  might  be  brought  to  a 
more  complete  development  by  me,  bound  me  to 
him,  and  gave  rise  to  relations  between  us  which 
seldom  exist  between  teacher  and  taught.  And  yet, 
such  was  the  constitution  of  his  mind  that  every 
attempt  to  show  him  what  I  had  developed  from 
his  views  seemed  disagreeable  to  him,  and  appar- 
ently awakened  the  fear  that  he  was  to  find  in  me 
one  who  would  overthrow  his  theories,  and  rob  him 
of  his  fame.  And  such  was  the  influence  which 
Werner  exercised  upon  his  pupils,  that  I  began  to 
be  looked  upon  by  them  as  a  disturbing  force,  as  a 
danserous  element  in  their  midst. 

I  lived  on  terms  of  intimacy  with  the  foreigners 
who  were  at  Freiberg,  especially  with  the  English- 
men, Mitchell  and  Jameson.  I  was  invited  to  de- 
liver lectures  on  philosophy  to  them,  and  was  glad 
to  have  an  opportunity  to  speak  of  what  was  of  so 
much  interest  to  me.  I  commenced  my  course  ac- 
cordingly, and  tried  to  make  real  to  myself,  as  well 
as  to  my  handful  of  hearers,  the  ideal  side  of  philos- 
ophy, to  show  the  parallelism  between  the  real  and 
the  ideal,  and  how  they  are  united  in  a  higher  unity. 
But  I  never  succeeded  in  making  my  meaning  clear 
to  my  hearers.  I  gained  no  disciples  to  philosophy 
in  Freiberg.     Indeed,  that  was  the  last  place  in  the 


88  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

world  to  make  the  attempt.  Philosophy  was  too 
remote  from  the  circle  of  studies  pursued  there,  for 
mineralogy  had  to  do  alone  with  the  world  of  sense. 
The  Englishmen  were  curious  to  know  what  Ger- 
man philosophy  is,  and  what  it  proposes  to  solve. 
But  it  was  not  comprehensible  to  them.  They, 
caring  for  no  evidence  but  that  of  the  senses,  and 
valuing  no  results  but  those  which  are  gained  by 
experiment  and  observation,  satisfied  with  a  religion 
which  has  a  determinate  and  absolute  value,  and 
which  lets  the  seen  world  and  the  unseen  world 
touch  each  other,  without  being  in  unity,  were  not 
the  men  to  comprehend  our  philosophy.  I  do  not 
know  to  how  great  an  extent  the  two  Englishmen 
at  Freiberg  were  religiously  inclined.  Upon  such 
subjects  the  Englishman  rarely  expresses  himself, 
and  when  he  does,  it  is  in  the  most  practical  way. 
It  was  curious  to  observe  how  difficult  it  was  for  my 
philosophical  ideas  to  get  a  lodgement  in  the  minds 
of  my  English  friends  at  Freiberg,  and  how  speedily 
they  flitted  away.  I  saw  that  it  was  in  vain  to  con- 
tinue my  lectures,  and  soon  gave  them  up.  Only 
one  man,  and  he  a  Pole,  seemed  to  be  interested  in 
them.  The  Frenchmen,  even  those  who  in  mineral- 
ogical  studies  were  my  constant  companions,  took 
no  interest  in  my  prelections ;  and  so  I  was  left  to 
study  Schelling  by  myself,  and  to  think  of  Jena. 

The  young  men  who  came  to  Freiberg  from 
abroad  used  to  run  over  to  Dresden  for  recreation. 
I  had  once  passed  through  that  city,  but  made  no 
stay,  as  I  intended  soon  visiting  and  becoming 
acquainted  with   it.     The   beautiful   environs,   the 


VISITS  DRESDEN.  89 

charming  situation  of  the  place,  had  pleased  me  at 
the  first  view,  and  I  was  delighted  with  the  thought 
of  returning  thither.  But  I  was  so  engaged  with 
my  studies  at  Freiberg  that  a  couple  of  months 
passed  before  I  felt  at  leisure  to  go  to  Dresden.  It 
was  about  the  end  of  August  that  a  friend  of  mine 
joined  me,  and  we  hired  a  couple  of  saddle-horses, 
and  journeyed  to  the  city  of  art.  It  was  a  beauti- 
ful morning  when  we  arrived.  The  sun  was  giving 
the  spires  their  most  brilliant  appearance.  We  went 
directly  to  the  inn,  took  a  hearty  breakfast,  and  then 
hastened  to  the  gallery. 

The  lofty  halls,  crowded  with  pictures,  had  in 
my  eyes  an  imposing  look ;  the  visitors,  alone  or  in 
groups,  traversed  the  apartments  in  an  almost  sol- 
emn silence.  I  was  in  a  peculiar  frame  of  mind, 
very  much  excited,  and  supposing  that  every  picture 
which  was  allowed  a  place  in  the  Dresden  gallery 
must  be  a  work  of  great  excellence.  The  veteran 
Riedel  was  my  guide,  and  tried  to  enlighten  me  on 
the  merits  of  the  various  paintings,  but  I  hardly 
heeded  a  word  that  he  said.  The  pictures  seemed 
to  float  before  my  eyes,  and  I  walked  from  room  to 
room  like  one  in  a  dream.  I  wondered  whether 
people  could  see  in  what  a  state  of  mind  I  was,  and 
glanced  at  them  to  discover  whether  I  was  a  subject 
of  special  remark.  My  feelings  grew  painful ;  my 
mind  was  overwrought,  and  I  longed  to  got  through 
and  be  in  the  air  again.  In  my  weakness  I  almost 
reeled.  The  pictures  seemed  to  be  animate,  and 
the  people  around  me  seemed  to  be  portraits  with- 
out frames.     Still  the  guide  led  me  on  and  on.     My 


90  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

excitement  was  constantly  increasing.  At  last  we 
stood  before  a  picture  of  uncommon  size.  A  wo- 
man's figure  seemed  to  be  floating  on  clouds,  and 
in  her  arms  she  bore  a  child  whose  face  was  of 
strange  and  ineffable  beauty.  My  feelings  had 
reached  their  height.  I  could  bear  them  no  longer, 
and  I  burst  into  violent  and  uncontrollable  weep- 
ing. I  tried  to  govern  myself,  for  I  felt  that  every 
eye  was  upon  me,  and  at  length  I  succeeded.  And 
then  I  learned  that  the  picture  which  had  so  moved 
me  was  the  most  celebrated  of  the  gallery,  the  Ma- 
donna of  San  Sisto,  Raphael's  great  work. 

We  were  now  in  the  last  room,  and  I  thanked 
God  when  we  were  fairly  in  the  street  again. 

Dresden  is  one  of  the  most  delightful  places  in 
summer  that  I  have  ever  seen.  I  have  been  there 
a  great  many  times  in  all,  but  whether  it  has  been 
rainy  or  fair,  it  has  always  seemed  to  me  to  be  sun- 
shine in  Dresden.  And  not  only  is  the  city  propei: 
rich  in  attractions,  but  the  environs  are  charming. 
You  cannot  go  beyond  the  walls  in  any  direction 
without  passing  through  places  of  even  romantic 
beauty.  The  number  of  strangers  who  flock  thither 
relieves  the  somewhat  prim  manners  of  a  German 
town,  and  infuses  a  certain  genial  character  into 
the  population.  In  no  place  could  a  stranger  live 
in  more  perfect  independence  of  the  world  than  in 
Dresden;  in  no  place  could  one  surrender  himself 
more  completely  to  the  humors  of  the  hour  than 
there.  The  English,  who  came  thither  in  large 
numbers,  even  as  long  ago  as  at  my  first  visit,  at  the 
opening  of  this  century,  used  to  lead  in   extrava- 


FREEDOM  OF  LIFE  AT  FREIBERG.  91 

gances,  and  the  young  men  among  them  acted  like 
rude,  unlicked  bears.  Dresden  being  not  very  large, 
humors  could  be  allowed  which  would  not  be  toler- 
ated for  a  day  in  a  great  city  like  Berlin.  It  was 
just  so  at  Freiberg.  All  the  strangers  there  lived 
very  much  according  to  their  will,  while  the  people 
of  the  city  were  subjected  to  a  rigid  discipline  which 
was  in  great  contrast  to  our  freedom.  In  fact,  it 
was  rather  provoking,  and  the  Freiberg  folk  could 
not  conceal  their  irritation.  For  example,  some  of 
us  students  joined  the  English  in  having  our  dinner 
at  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  The  general  dining 
hour  at  Freiberg  was  twelve,  and,  as  we  used  to  sit 
quite  in  an  exposed  view  as  we  dined,  being  on  the 
lower  floor  of  a  hotel,  we  used  to  be  amused  at  see- 
ing the  people  look  in  with  curiosity  upon  us,  and 
w^ith  some  disgust  at  our  oddly-chosen  hour.  In 
Dresden,  the  ways  of  strangers  were  not  so  much 
marked  by  the  inhabitants,  and  so  there  was  a 
delightful  freedom. 

So,  with  study  at  Freiberg  and  with  recreation  at 
Dresden,  that  summer  and  the  following  winter 
passed  away,  and  so,  too,  did  the  next  summer  and 
the  next  autumn.  It  was  one  of  the  most  delight- 
ful epochs  of  my  life.  I  had  exercise  enough  for  my 
body,  and  the  most  delightful  relations  with  a  band 
of  kindred  spirits.  I  was  always  lively,  and  well 
do  I  remember* the  animated  conversations  of  those 
long  evenings  which  only  terminated  at  midnight. 
It  was  a  time,  too,  of  great  political  movements. 
Bonaparte   was   on   his    return    from   Egypt,   and 


92  THE  STORT  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Europe  was  full  of  enthusiasm.  I  shall  never  forget 
those  days. 

Meanwhile  the  Philosophy  of  ISTature  was  the 
great  theme  of  scientific  men,  and  was  awakening 
universal  attention  and  interest.  Hardly  any  publi- 
cation of  a  philosophical  character  has  been  seized 
upon  so  greedily  as  the  first  number  of  Schelling's 
Journal  of  Speculative  Physics.  Out  of  this  pub- 
lication, and  one  of  my  own,  Avhich  came  out  at  the 
same  time,  there  arose  a  great  contest,  in  which 
Schlegel,  Schelling,  and  I  were  involved.  I  was 
most  harshly  attacked,  and  was  ev^n  charged  with 
the  betrayal  of  confidence.  I  will  not  revive  the 
memory  of  the  contest,  nor  rake  over  the  dead  em- 
bers of  those  times,  but  I  was  deeply  pained  at  the 
whole  affair. 

Whoever  knows  my  relations  to  the  literature  of 
Germany  for  the  past  forty  years,  knows  how,  at 
various  times,  even  down  to  the  present,  I  have 
been  the  subject  of  very  bitter  and  envious  attacks. 
I  took  a  resolution  at  the  beginning,  to  which  I 
have  always  been  true,  that  I  would  answer  no  at- 
tacks which  were  made  upon  my  views  as  a  whole, 
or  upon  the  stand-point  from  which  I  proceeded.  I 
am  very  sensitive,  and  when  I  read  those  attacks, 
they  would  almost  make  me  sick.  I  would  throw 
off  fiery,  unsparing  replies,  and  believe  that  I  had 
annihilated  my  assailant ;  but  this*  warfare  never 
went  beyond  my  chamber;  it  never  reached  the 
press  or  the  post-ofi&ce.  I  saw  clearer  and  clearer 
that  attacks  which  proceeded  from  a  want  of  under- 
standing my  position  can  never  be  answered ;  that  a 


STEFFENS'S  MANNER  WITH  OPPONENTS.  93 

defensive  attitude  is  al,ways  an  unfavorable  one,  and 
that  if  a  man  will  lay  the  foundation  of  new  posi- 
tive ideas,  the  most  feasible  way  is  to  go  on  with 
the  quiet  developing  of  them,  and  the  complete 
ignoring  of  all  attacks  which  grow  out  of  not 
understanding  him.  All  just  and  worthy  replies 
were  of  great  value  to  me.  I  quietly  made  use  of 
them.  Sometimes,  when  I  felt  myself  personally 
wounded,  but  where  the  assailant  was  a  man  of 
large  reputation,  I  have  been  untrue  to  my  resolu- 
tion, but  I  have  always  repented  it  afterwards.  My 
position  in  literature  was,  therefore,  always  offen- 
sive rather  than  defensive ;  my  indifference  to  en- 
vious attacks  grew,  and,  in  order  to  escape  the  disa- 
greeable feeling  which  the  first  moment  of  reading 
a  malicious  charge  produces,  I  resorted  to  a  very 
simple  but  effective  method,  —  not  to  read  them 
at  all.  As  the  tone  of  parties  grew  worse  and  worse 
in  the  German  literature,  this  method  became  more 
and  more  a  necessity.  The  rough,  unsparing,  but 
praiseworthy  criticism  of  thorough  scholars,  such  as 
Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Schleiermacher,  the  bright 
and  cutting  wit  which  appears  in  Schlegel  and 
Tieck,  have  disappeared,  and  their  place  has  been 
assumed  by  a  savage  rudeness  and  sly  innuendoes. 
I  confess  I  used  to  take  a  kind  of  mischievous  plea- 
sure when  I  thought  of  some  opponent  sitting  down 
to  write  an  attack  on  me.  He  knew  my  sore  side, 
and  what  would  wound  me  the  deepest.  "Ah,  that 
will  sting  him,"  he  thinks,  as  he  writes  something 
very  sharp,  and  rubs  his  hands  together.  Poor  fel- 
low !   I  never  felt  it.    And,  as  even  the  worst  side 


94  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

of  literature  yet  brings  some  profit,  this  style  of  in- 
sinuating, these  pleasant  flings,  have  been  a  source 
of  a  moment's  merriment  to  the  youth  and  the 
intellectual  ladies  who  busy  thejnselves  with  the 
scientific  journals.  But  what  harm  did  it  all  do? 
Praise  and  blame  are  both  equally  harmless.  Who- 
ever has  a  work  to  do  which  absorbs  the  energies 
of  his  whole  being,  is  spending  his  happiest  days. 
He  can  build  on  in  peace,  and  cherish  the  thought 
that  he  is  doing  a  work  which  shall  not  perish ;  he 
knows  that  not  merely  the  passing  day,  but  that 
history  has,  through  him,  gained  new  ideas ;  if  his 
work  is  to  him  something  precious  and  sacred,  he 
cannot  only  bear  attacks  with  indifference,  but  can 
even  be  patient  with  his  weaknesses,  while  he  seeks 
to  battle  with  and  overcome  them.  I  must  confess 
that  the  attacks  of  adversaries  have  been  in  no  way 
injurious  to  the  development  of  my  conceptions,  and 
have  in  no  way  hindered  my  giving  to  the  future 
what  shall  be  of  permanent  worth.  I  hold  it  for 
true  that  the  power  of  the  censor  over  journals  and 
the  ephemeral  forms  of  literature  is  of  little  avail.  I 
once  called  it  a  kind  of  perpetual  slaughtering  of 
the  babes  of  Bethlehem  to  kill  the  Saviour,  whom 
yet  all  miss.  I  asked  the  censors  to  strike  out  no 
lines  in  the  writings  of  those  who  attacked  me,  were 
the  assaults  ever  so  bitter.  I  told  them  that  they 
did  not  affect  me  at  all.  And  in  general,  I  may  say, 
w^hat  in  science  can  be  destroyed  by  personal  at- 
tacks is  not  v/orth  saving.  The  diamond  must  be 
tried  by  the  hammer,  and  I  did  not  wish  to  make 
any  cherished  dream  of  mine  a  law  to  the  world 


REFLECTIONS  ON  ART.  95 

without  its  truth  being  well  proved.  I  have  dwelt 
thus  fully  upon  my  manner  of  dealing  with  my  op- 
ponents, because  it  has  been  my  method  through 
my  whole  life.  I  have  never  been  able^o  compre- 
hend why  a  man  should  take  any  course  but  the 
most  careful  doing  of  his  own  work.  I  can  well 
understand  how  one  can  feel  himself  drawn  to  labor 
on  year  after  year  alone,  as  my  friend  Schelling  did, 
beyond  all  the  clamor  of  men.  My  social  disposi- 
tion denied  that  privilege  to  me. 

Meanwhile  the  scope  of  men's   sympathies  was, 
ever  widening,  and  reaching  out  to  all  departments ! 
of  science,  and  to  all  the  forms  of  poetry.     That! 
difference  between  ancient  and  modern  times,  be-| 
tween  the   classic   eras  and  the   eras  of  romance,  i 
which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  every  criticism  of 
works  of  mind  or  art,  has  received  a  sharp  delinea- 
tion at  the  hands  of  Frederick  Schlegel,  in  his  work 
on  the  Poetry  of  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  and  is 
now  generally  recognized.     In  tliis  task  of  discrim- 
ination between  two  great  historical  epochs  lay  a 
vast  mass  of  observations  to  be  gone  through,  and 
to  men's  minds  the  results  have  been  made  more  or 
less  clear,  according  to  the  time  and  patience  which 
they  had  given  to  the  subject.  For  myself,  the  differ- 
ence of  which  I  speak  lay  predominantly  in  the 
strong   development  of  personality  which   charac- 
terizes modern  times,  and  which  pervades  modern 
poetry  ;  and  this  view  grew  clearer  and  stronger  in 
ray  eyes  as  I  began  to  regard  it  as  one  of  the  results 
of  Christianity.    I  saw  that  in  it  lay  one  of  the  prin- 
ciples on  which  history  should  rest,  and  that  it  waa 


96  THE  STOEY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

but  a  confirmation  of  the  great  work  of  my  life,  the 
harmonizing  of  the  effects  which  nature  exerts  upon 
character,  individual  and  national,  with  those  which 
all  the  othSr  agencies  bring  into  the  same  field. 

I  found  that  the  further  my  reading  extended  back 
into  the  poetry  of  the  middle  ages,  the  stronger  my 
interest  grew.  To  the  great  services  which  Tieck 
has  rendered  to  the  world  may  be  added  this,  that 
it  is  mainly  through  his  efforts  that  general  atten- 
tion has  been  called  to  the  rich  treasures  of  the  old 
German  literature.  It  is  well  known  what  a  great 
interest  was  awakened  by  Goethe's  treatise  on  Ger- 
man Art,  wherein  he  drags  Strasburg  Minster  out 
from  the  rubbish  which  had  covered  it,  and  reveals 
its  true  beauty.  This  treatise,  and  his  Goetz  von 
Berlichingen,  had  rescued  the  race  from  the  settled 
self-complacency  which  reigned,  and  set  it  to  in- 
quiring what  treasures  of  art  and  taste  were  known 
to  a  past  age  which  we  had  always  been  in  the  habit 
of  regarding  as  destitute  of  both.  Since  Bodmer's 
time,  the  Mbelungen-Lied  and  other  works  of  the 
oldest  German  poetry  had  been  subjected  to  pro- 
tracted study  and  profound  inquiries,  but  a  general 
interest  in  them  had  not  been  awakened,  nor  was 
there  a  thorough  appreciation  of  their  excellences. 
With  Tieck  I  was  not  yet  on  terms  of  close  inti- 
macy ;  and  upon  this  subject  he  had  not  then  pub- 
lished much ;  still  from  him  had  already  gone  forth 
that  interest  in  the  old  German  writers  which 
was  afterwards  to  gain  so  strong  a  hold  on  the  pub- 
lic mind.  I  now  began  to  hear  of  the  wondrous  old 
poetry,  of  an  epic  which  in  tragic  power  and  in 


DISCOVERY  OF  THE   VOLTAIC  PILE.  97 

artistic  skill  would  rival  the  productions  of  ancient 
classic  times.  It  gave  me  intense  pleasure  as  the 
new  world  opened  before  me,  and  I  found,  too,  that 
the  oldest  and  most  renowned  of  these  poems 
pointed  to  my  own  native  land,  and  displayed  kin- 
ship with  the  ancient  Scandinavian  songs  of  gods 
and  heroes.  What  I  learned  was  certainly  frag- 
mentary. But  this  new  world  stood  before  me  and 
beckoned  to  me  as  from  afar.  It  lay  like  a  rich 
treasure  in  my  view,  and  absorbed  my  whole  na- 
ture in  efforts  to  make  it  mine. 

And  while  poetry  and  art  were  enlisting  my  inter- 
est more  and  more,  while  Bonaparte's  return  from 
Egypt,  his  victory  at  Marengo,  his  power  widening 
more  and  more  at  Paris,  made  him .  the  great  and 
towering  object  of  his  time ;  in  that  epoch  of  fer- 
mentation, of  excitement,  that  epoch  which  could 
be  compared  with  the  most  celebrated  of  antiquity, 
I  lived  in  my  little  circle  of  kindred  spirits,  sharing 
with  them  a  common  life,  and  uniting  in  all  their 
sympathies.  All  the  new  combinations  of  men  and 
their  enterprises  did  not  reach  me.  I  looked  upon 
them,  indeed,  but  with  no  eager  interest ;  for  while 
among  things  past  German  poetry  engaged  me, 
among  things  present  it  was  enough  to  observe  the 
flashing  career  of  Napoleon. 

But  not  mining,  nor  metaphysics,  nor  literature 
alone  engrossed  my  entire  attention  while  I  was  at 
Freiberg.  The  important  discovery  of  the  pile  of 
Volta,  and  so  of  galvanism,  was  made  during  that 
time,  and  stirred  the  whole  scientific  world.  I  had 
received  quite  a  large  sum  of  money  from  Den- 
7 


98  THE  STOBT  OF  MY  CAREER. 

mark;  enough  to  enable  me  to  procure  a  battery  of 
not  insignificant  size.  There  is  always  something 
affecting  in  entering  upon  a  newly-opened  and  mys- 
terious department  of  science.  It  made  a  deep 
impression  on  me,  and  the  more  so  because  these 
wonderful  revelations  could  not  in  any  way  be  at- 
tributed to  accident.  It  was  interesting  to  see  from 
how  slight  an  origin  so  vast  a  discovery  proceeded, 
and  to  view  result  after  result  follow  in  regular 
succession.  The  pile  of  Volta  has  become  to  one 
department  of  science  what  Kepler's  laws  have  be- 
come to  another. 

I  experimented  from  morning  to  evening  with 
niy  battery.  Some  little  discoveries  which  I  made, 
and  which  now  seem  of  little  moment,  delighted  me 
beyond  measure.  I  was  the  first  to  analyze  ammo- 
nia ;  and  it  seems  singular,  as  I  look  back  to  the  sci- 
entific journals  of  those  times,  to  find  that  I  also 
was  the  first  to  kindle  phosphorus  with  the  battery. 
Everybody  in  Freiberg  was  interested  in  what  I  was 
doing.  Werner  and  Charpentier  came  in  to  see  the 
wonderful  thing.  At  some  hours  of  the  day  my 
room  was  crowded  with  students.  The  ladies,  even, 
honored  me  with  their  presence.  This  new  source 
of  interest  engrossed  me  for  a  long  time,  but  at 
length  it,  too,  lost  its  charms. 

But  I  turned  to  still  another  work  of  magnitude 
and  of  importance ;  for  in  Freiberg  I  wrote  and  pub- 
lished my  papers^  on  the  Natural  History  of  the- 
Interior  of  the  Earth. 

^  Beitrage  zur  inneren  Naturg^sohlohte  der  Erde. 


STEFFE^^S'S  FIRST  BOOK.  99 

What  I  tried  to  develop  in  this  work  was  the 
ground-thought  of  my  whole  life.  Years  before  I 
had  begun  to  dream  of  it  by  night,  and  to  turn  it 
over  and  over  by  day.  Even  when  a.  student  of 
Spinoza,  the  conception  of  a  hidden  unity  running 
through  all  living  things  had  charmed  me.  As  I. 
grew  older,  the  conception  strengthened,  and  the 
hope  arose  within  me  of  giving  the  study  of  physics 
greater  value  and  interest.  For  this  thought  I  was 
indebted  to  Schelling.  But  I  could  not  content 
myself  with  the  mere  abstract  thought.  From  my 
childhood  up,  nature  has  spoken  to  me  as  if  it  were 
a  livino:  thino:.  I  could  even  read  in  it  what  seemed 
to  be  a  deep  process  of  thought.  It  seemed  to  be 
trying  to  speak  out  not  only  what  the  Creator 
thought,  but  what  he  wished  to  do  with  his  thought. 
In  the  system  of  Spinoza,  God  has  his  true  greatness 
granted  to  him.  Schelling,  too,  had  placed  God  at 
the  head  of  the  -universe.  I  questioned  all  the  facts 
of  experimental  science  to  enlarge  my  knowledge 
of  the  Creator.  I  sought  to  know  whether  all  those 
things  which  from  my  childhood  up  had  wrouglit  so 
powerfully  upon  me  did  really  bear  the  traces  of  a 
divine  mind.  That  was  the  hope  which  led  me  on, 
and  I  never  gave  up  the  search.  I  felt  deeply,  most 
deeply  indebted  to  Schelling ;  but  yet  it  was  plain 
that  my  book  was,  to  some  degree,  a  new  contribu- 
tion to  science  ;  that  it  developed  a  new,  rich,  and 
nnworked  vein  of  thought.  And  for  it  I  felt  that  I 
was  indebted  to  another  great  teacher,  to  Werner 
himself  If  Schelling  gave  me  the  grand  thought, 
the  conception  of  the  Eternal,  the  One  who  embraces 


100         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

all  things  in  his  thought,  Werner  awoke  in  me  the 
hope  of  introducing  this  conception  into  the  study 
of  nature  as  a  working  force,  one  which  should  dis- 
play the  existence  not  of  mere  passive  being,  but  of 
will  and  of  purpose  to  do.  This  would  give  rise  to 
a  new  view  of  history  in  its  relations  to  God,  and 
of  what  I  called  the  natural  history  of  the  inte- 
rior of  the  earth.  It  is  weak  language  to  say  that 
through  the  influence  of  physical  conditions  human 
actions  assume  their  character.  Man  is  wholly  a 
product  from  the  hands  of  nature.  Only  in  his  being 
this  wholly — not  partly,  but  wholly — do  we  confess 
that  in  him  nature  centres  all  her  mysteries.  And 
so  it  became  plain  to  me  that  natural  science  is 
bringing  a  new  element  into  history,  which  is  to 
become  the  basis  of  all  knowledge  of  our  race.  His- 
tory and  nature  must  be  in  perfect  concord,  for  they 
are  really  one.  Nature's  highest  and  completest 
manifestations  are  in  the  deeds  of  history.  My 
book  was  undertaken  rather  in  youthful  zeal  than 
in  cool  judgment,  and  yet  I  sought  to  make  the  best 
I  could,  and  to  keep  to  my  main  thought.  I  tried 
to  impart  a  unity  to  all  being,  which  had  not  before 
been  granted,  and  thus  to  give  science  a  greater 
value  both  for  the  present  and  the  future.  Not  so 
much  to  reduce  some  phenomena  into  harmony  with 
special  hypotheses,  but  to  unite  all  phenomena,  and 
from  this  union  to  find  the  traces  of  a  Divine  Mind 
ruling  over  and  unfolding  all,  in  His  own  good  time, 
—  this  was  the  object  of  my  book. 

Men  had  already  begun  to  feel  that  science  ought 
to  be  made  less  dry,  and  that  to  accomplish  this  it 


RECEPTION  OF  STEFFENS'S  BOOK.  101 

must  be  more  closely  linked  to  life.  Schelling  was 
calling  forth  more  activity  of  mind  than  had  been 
witnessed  since  the  most  flourishing  days  of  Greek 
philosophy.  And  my  work  was  published  just  at 
the  time  when  men's  minds  were  in  their  full  glow, 
and  I  well  remember  that  it  made  a  strong  impres- 
sion. It  was  confessed  that  I  was  not  a  novice  in 
science.  A  general  wish  prevailed  that  I  might  be 
the  means  of  giving  a  wider  range  to  speculation, 
and  that  our  most  eminent  naturalists  might  both 
continue  their  observations  with  as  much  rigidness 
as  ever,  and  yet  with  a  higher  aim. 

I  will  not  go  into  detail  as  to  the  contents  of  the 
book.  Enough  to  say,  that  its  main  thought  has 
been  confirmed  by  one  with  whom  my  name  may 
not  be  brought  into  comparison,  the  immortal  Cu- 
vier.  Science  has  made  so  much  progi^ess  since  my 
work  was  published,  that  many  of  my  minor  posi- 
tions are  now  overthrown ;  yet  the  main  points 
stand,  and  will  stand.  My  views  have  been  further 
developed,  but  not  set  aside ;  and  in  the  present 
state  of  science  I  recognize  them,  enlarged  and  re- 
stated, indeed,  but  still  in  essence  there. 

The  impression  which  the  book  produced  had  a 
reflex  influence  upon  me.  For  the  first  time  in  my 
life  my  fond  dreams  had  had  a  fulfilment,  and  a 
work  of  mine  had  been  given  to  the  inspection  of 
the  great  world.  Schelling  recognized  my  views  as 
embodying  what  was  essential  to  his  philosophy. 
The  influence  which  my  production  had  upon  his 
second  article  in  the  Journal  of  Speculative  Phys- 
ics he  did  not  seek  to  deny,  —  he  himself  confessed 


102  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

it.  Every  one  who  was  devoting  himself  to  the 
study  of  nature  hailed  my  work  as  instituting  a 
new  epoch  in  its  development.  Young  enthusiasts 
expressed  themselves  in  regard  to  its  extravagant 
tone,  and  even  the  strongest  opponents  spoke  out 
their  pity  that  a  young  man,  who  was  so  thoroughly 
the  master  of  the  experimental  sciences,  should  give 
himself  over  to  the  vague  fancies  of  speculation.  It 
was  interesting  to  see  the  two  extremes  of  criticism 
in  contrast  —  that  of  the  exaggerating  praise  in  the 
Saltzburg  Medical  Gazette,  and  that  of  undeviating 
blame  in  the  General  German  Repository.  Freisle- 
ben  regarded  the  book  as  a  mere  geognostical  com- 
mentary on  Werner's  treatise  on  the  slate  and  chalk 
formations.  I  had  thought,  in  my  innocence,  that  it 
was  something  more  than  this.  Frederick  Schlegel 
found  fault  with  the  want  of  a  blending  of  experi- 
mental results  with  philosophical  hypotheses.  And 
when  I  saw  that  his  want  of  scientific  knowledge 
denied  him  the  power  of  combining  two  things  so 
different,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  in  my  sight  such  a 
uniting  of  the  experimental  with  the  speculative  as 
should  reconcile  all  antagonisms,  and  give  perfect- 
ness  to  my  work,  was  a  result  that  was  not  only  a 
worthy  goal  for  my  humble  faculties,  but  even  for 
the  highest  efforts  of  the  most  exalted  minds. 


CHAPTER    V. 

PREDERICK  SCHLEGEL  — WIT  AND  WITTY  MEN  —  GOETHE*S  COM- 
PREHENSIVENESS —  NOVALIS  —  STEFPENS'S  HUMILIATION  —  HIS 
ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  TIECK  —  EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY  — 
RETURN  TO  DENMARK  —  LEAVING  GERMANY  —  COPENHAGEN  — 
KIND  RECEPTION  —  GOETHE'S  INVITATION  —  STEFFENS  COilMEN- 
CES  A  COURSE  OF  LECTURES  —  HIS  MARRIAGE  —  MARRIED  LIFE 
AND   DESPERATE   CIRCU3ISTANCES  —  BETTER    PROSPECTS. 

While  at  Freiberg  I  took  a  foot  journey  to  Jena, 
where  I  became  acquainted  with  Frederick  Schlegel, 
who  was  then  staying  with  his  brother.  He  was  in 
every  respect  a  remarkable  man,  slender  in  figure, 
his  features  regular,  fair,  and  in  the  highest  degree 
expressive.  He  had  a  very  quiet  manner,  I  might 
call  it  almost  phlegmatic.  When  he  sat  in  his  chair, 
sunk  in  meditation,  and  was  developing  a  great 
thought,  he  used  to  embrace  his  forehead  with  his 
thumb  and  fore  finger,  and  then  draw  them  grad- 
ually together  till  they  met  just  above  his  deUcately- 
formed  nose ;  then,  as  he  became  still  more  deeply 
absorbed  in  his  revery,  his  finger  would  pass  down 
to  the  end  of  his  nose,  till  at  last  it  lay  directly  along 
its  back,  pointing  into  the  air.  He  spoke  slowly 
and  thoughtfully.  I  united  myself  to  him  in  very 
close  ties.  Although  I  felt  that  our  views  were 
very  unlike,  yet  I  forgot  that  every  moment ;  for  it 
is  very  singular  how  near  people  come  together  in 

103 


104  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

results  which  they  have  reached  in  the  most  differ- 
,    ent  ways.     Schlegel  lived  wholly  in  history.     He 

\  had  no  eye  for  natural  beauty;  indeed,  the  ability  to 

'  enjoy  landscapes  was  wanting  to  both  the  brothers. 
Such  a  deficiency  in  two  so  gifted  men  was  very 

'surprising  to  me ;  it  was  unaccountable.     It  is  well 
known   that   in   Lessing   and   William    Humboldt 

,  there  was  wholly  wanting  an  ear  for  music. 
■  There  could  hardly  be  a  man  more  capable  of 
wielding  a  strong  personal  influence  than  Frederick 
Schlegel.  He  grasped  every  subject  which  was  pre- 
sented to  him  in  its  whole  length  and  breadth.  He 
could  even  pass  at  once  into  the  comprehension  of 
my  ideas  on  natural  philosophy ;  but  all  his  writings 
show  that  he  was  unable  to  gain  a  full  insight  into 
the  workings  of  nature.  His  wit  was  inexhaustible 
and  happy';  and  he  belonged  to  those  who  under- 
stand what  wit  really  is. 

It  is  well  known  that  wit  and  acuteness  are  often 
brought  into  contrast,  and  that  it  is  generally  in- 
sisted that  they  mutually  exclude  each  other.  The 
man  devoid  of  wit,  who,  because  he  is  accustomed 
to  call  himself  sharp-sighted,  is  inclined  to  give  the 
preference  to  keenness,  believes  that  a  witty  man 
cannot  be  acute;  and  yet  it  must  be  confessed  that 
both  faculties,  where  they  exist  in  a  sound  and  ac- 
tive state,  presuppose  each  other.  Whoever  grasps 
in  an  instant  all  the  relations  of  a  subject  and  mas- 
ters them  at  once,  he  has  wit.  This  immediate 
grasping  is  necessary ;  it  must  come  without  a  mo- 
ment's pause.  It  is  not  the  seeing  of  dim  analogies, 
not  the  conceiving  of  things  in  their  unity,  that 


KEENNESS  AND    WIT.  105 

makes  wit.  Wit  must  see  all  this  without  delay ; 
to  be  wit,  it  must  be  immediate.  Wit  is  the  child 
of  the  moment.  The  difference  between  wit  and 
sharp-sightedness  lies  in  the  time  which  is  needed 
to  grasp  all  the  relations  of  a  subject.  Wit  pounces 
upon  them  and  startles  you  into  laughter;  acute- 
ness  takes  them  with  quickness,  indeed,  but  not  as 
in  a  twinkling.  Wit  reads  to  you  as  by  the  light- 
ning's flash ;  acuteness  by  the  full  glory  of  day. 
Wit  is  keenness  highly  animated  and  intensified. 

I  learned  what  I  know  of  this  subject,  and  which 
I  have  rather  hinted  at  in  the  last  paragraph  than 
fully  expanded,  from  Frederick  Schlegel,  who  was 
an  excellent  judge  of  the  quality  of  wit.  I  often 
observed  in  the  course  of  my  experience  of  life  that 
the  most  sharp-sighted  men  are  the  wittiest  men  ; 
and  that  the  wit  which  is  deepest,  and  therefore 
only  appreciated  by  the  few,  is  that  which  comes 
from  the  keenest  view.  This  was  true  of  Shak- 
speare;  and  so  of  the  men  whom  I  knew,  —  Goethe, 
the  Schlegels,  Tieck,  Schleiermacher,  Wolf,  were 
equally  distinguished  by  acumen  and  wit.  Their 
wit  implied  their  acumen.  Who  discriminated  with 
so  keen  an  eye  as  Talleyrand,  and  who  was  wittier 
than  he  ? 

Frederick  Schlegel  could  take  the  highest  delight 
in  true  wit,  even  if  it  was  stinging  him  through. 
Flatness  was  in  the  last  degree  distasteful  to  him. 
He  used  to  say  that  you  can  judge  best  of  the  grasp 
and  depth  of  a  man's  mind  by  seeing  what  kind 
of  wit  pleases  him.  Kant,  he  said,  showed  in  his 
Anthropology  that  he  knew  the  nature  of  genuine 


106         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

wit.  And,  indeed,  not  merely  in  that  treatise,  but 
in  his  whole  writings,  wit  abounds. 

Wit  is  very  nearly  allied  to  poetry.  And  poetry 
was  almost  identified  by  Schlegel  with  religion,  and 
put  in  its  place.  That  was  only  too  apparent.  That 
is  why  irony  had  such  a  value  with  him ;  irony 
being  poetry  and  wit  in  combination,  figurative  wit. 
That  serious  way  of  looking  at  things  as  they  are, 
that  characterized  Schelling,  seemed  to  the  unsettled 
spirit  of  Schlegel  ^  as  too  severe  a  matter ;  he  would 
not  confront  threatening  realities. 

It  needs  but  to  throw  a  glance  over  the  vast  scope 
and  great  value  of  the  efibrts  put  forth  in  all  direc- 
tions to  comprehend  the  fact  that  no  century  was 
ever  ushered  in  with  more  promise  than  the  nine- 
teenth. What  seemed  to  be  going  forward  in  the 
course  of  a  peaceful  development,  could  not  resist 
the  sway  of  this  new  activity.  All  men  who  were 
working  in  the  interest  of  science  formed  a  close 
alliance,  for  they  saw  that,  though  their  paths  were 
different,  their  goal  was  one. 

In  a  period  so  rich  Goethe  was  seen  in  his  true 
light.  The  poet  had  an  interest  in  every  new  scien- 
tific development.  If  Wolf  in  Halle  opened  a  new 
way  in  the  treatment  of  the  classic  authors,  and 
founded  a  deeper  school  of  criticism ;  if  he  laid  his 
hand  upon  the  old  Greek  Epic  and  dissected  Ho- 
mer, the  poet  of  Weimar  stood  by  with  warmest 


1  It  may  here  be  mentioned  that  Frederick  Schlegel  is  the  author  of 
<  the  well-known  witticism  that  all  cats  are  black  in  the  dark.    Origin- 
ally it  was  an  ironical  attack  on  Schelling's  doctrine  of  absolute 
identity.  —  Trans. 


GOETHE'S  COMPREHENSIVENESS.  107 

approval.  If  Gries  busied  himself  with  the  Italian 
writers,  and  A.  W.  Schlegel  and  Tieck  with  Shak- 
speare,  Cervantes  and  Calderon,  they  only  advanced 
and  widened  the  studies  of  the  all-comprehending 
Goethe.  If  the  Grimms  disclosed  with  enthusiasm 
the  depths  of  the  old  German  and  Scandinavian  lit- 
erature, it  was  Goethe  who  first  grasped  the  worth 
of  their  discoveries,  and  followed  with  eager  intewst 
the  opening  path  which  led  to  the  discovery  of  new 
treasures  in  the  past.  And  investigations,  too,  whose 
value  was  concealed  from  the  most  active  spirits 
around  him,  early  claimed  his  attention.  As  truly 
as  he  belonged  to  the  world  of  poets,  did  he  belong 
to  the  ranks  of  men  who  consecrate  themselves  to 
science.  But  the  tie  which  unites  all  scientific  in- 
quirers, and  gives  them  all  a  common  quality,  the 
philosophy  of  nature,  drew  him  the  most  strongly ; 
and  he  could  not  deny  the  worth  of  any  science, 
even  if  its  details  had  not  been  mastered  by  him. 
The  spirit  first  called  out  by  Schelling  caught  even 
those  who  meant  to  ignore  it,  and  a  new  manner  of 
speech  crept  into  all  the  sciences,  and  it  became  ap- 
parent to  all  that  those  which  seemed  to  lie  remote 
from  each  other  had  an  inner  connection,  and  that  a 
close  and  vital  one.  So  infinitely  rich  was  that  time 
that  the  present  seemed  linked  as  never  before  to 
future  and  to  past ;  it  seemed  as  if  no  epoch  in  his- 
tory was  so  full  of  hope.  And  I,  stimulated  on  all 
sides,  found  myself  excited  to  tJie  most  varied,  most 
living  activity.  Many  things  were  hidden  from  my 
knowledge,  much  I  could  see  in  the  misty  distance  ; 
but  the  vital  forces  which  were  moving  around  me 


108  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

gave  me  a  feeling  of  kinship  to  those  engaged  in  the 
most  diverse  studies  of  nature. 

In  Jena  I  also  became  acquainted  with  ISTovalis. 
I  had  heard  much  said  about  him.  There  was 
scarcely  a  man  whose  acquaintance  I  was  more  de- 
sirous to  make.  I  met  him  first  at  the  house  of 
Frederick  Schlegel,  in  whose  arms  he  died  a  few 
years  after.  His  appearance  was  rather  too  sleek  to 
be  very  promising ;  his  clothing  was  very  simple, 
and  his  presence  was  not  suggestive  of  a  man  of 
great  eminence.  He  was  tall,  spare,  and  had  a  hec- 
tic, flush  that  boded  no  good.  His  countenance  was 
dark.  His  thin  lips,  sometimes,  indeed,  ironically 
smiling,  but  generally  retaining  a  serious,  earnest 
expression,  indicated  the  greatest  sweetness  and 
friendliness  of  nature.  But  above  all  was  the  lam- 
bent glow  of  his  deep,  spiritual  eye.  He  was  wholly 
a  poet.  All  existence  was  to  him  mythic.  Every- 
thing around  him  seemed  to  look  out  from  a  more 
ethereal  atmosphere  than  ours.  He  cannot,  indeed, 
be  called  a  mystic  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
word,  for  such  look  from  the  world  in  which  they 
find  themselves  placed,  into  another  and  more  mys- 
terious world  where  new  activities  are  at  work.  But 
to  Novalis  this  other  mysterious  world  was  home, 
and  from  it  he  looked  out  upon  our  more  common 
habitation.  And  this  mythical  element  which  pre- 
vailed in  him  gave  him  an  intuitive  insight  into  the 
relations  of  science,  of  metaphysics,  of  the  fine  arts, 
and  even  into  the  character  of  the  most  gifted  men. 
And  so  the  charm  of  his  language  and  the  harmony 
of  his  style  were  not  things  acquired,  they  were  bom 


NOVALIS.  109 

with  him ;  and  so,  too,  he  could  turn  with  equal  ease 
to  science  and  to  poetry,  and  into  his  tales  he  could 
so  weave  the  subtlest  and  the  deepest  thoughts 
that  the  story  would  seem  incomplete  without  the 
philosophy,  and  the  philosophy  incomplete  without 
the  story.  Such  productions  as  the  Lehrlinge  zu 
Sais,  and  Heinrich  von  Osterdingen,  must  have  pro- 
duced a  profound  impression,  for  the  same  spirit 
seemed  to  be  native  to  them  which  it  is  the  work  of 
philosophy  to  impart  after  long  effort  has  been  made 
to  reach  it.  Novalis  used  to  express  himself  with 
the  greatest  freedom  on  all  subjects,  and  he  himself 
insisted  that  philosophy  should  have  a  method  of 
investigation,  out  of  which  rather  than  b^/  means  of 
which  he  should  instruct  others ;  and  in  saying  that 
he  was  simply  showing  what  was  habitual  with  him- 
self 

In  large  gatherings  or  in  the  company  of  stran- 
gers he  sometimes  sat  perfectly  silent,  lost  in  his 
thoughts.  His  sensibilities  were  so  acute  that  he 
could  detect  the  presence  of  natures  not  in  unison 
with  his;  but  where  he  found  kindred  spirits,  he 
gave  himself  up  to  the  hour,  spoke  freely  and  at 
length,  and  appeared  very  excited  and  happy. 

I  saw  him  in  Jena  only  a  few  days,  but  met  him 
afterwards  in  Freiberg,  where  he  visited  at  the  min- 
eralogist Chnrpentier's,  to  whose  daughter  he  was 
betrothed.  He  took  a  deep  interest  in  the  ideas 
which  were  then  filling  my  mind.  My  view  of 
nature  seemed  to  him  of  great  value,  and  to  prom- 
ise much  for  the  future.  What  I  read  of  his,  what 
I  saw  in  him,  what  I  experienced  with  him,  was  to 


110  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAEEEB. 

the  course  of  my  life  what  the  accompaniment  is  to 
a  melody,  or  rather  like  an  echo  from  distant  moun- 
tains, which  gave  back  to  me  in  louder  and  distincter 
utterance  what  I  scarcely  ventured  to  speak. 

I  have  since  then  fallen  in  with  men  who  seemed 
to  be  entirely  governed  by  him;  men  who  were 
severely  practical,  naturalists  and  experimental  in- 
quirers who  prized  highly  what  is  deep  and  myste^ 
rious  in  life,  and  who  believed  that  in  his  writings 
they  had  found  the  solution  of  the  problem  of  ex- 
istence. The  blending  of  religion  and  poetry  in  the 
writings  of  ISTovalis  was  to  them  the  utterance  of 
an  oracle,  and  in  those  writings  they  profess  to  have 
found  the  same  strengthening  and  comfort  which 
Christians  find  in  the  Bible. 

In  truth,  I^ovalis  was  •religious  in  the  deepest 
sense.  It  is  well  known  that  from  his  i3en  have 
come  hymns  which  belong  to  the  noblest  that  the 
church  of  Christ  possesses.  He  had,  as  is  well 
known,  a  strong  leaning  towards  Catholicism,  and 
he  has  done  more,  perhaps,  than  any  other  to  lead 
youth  to  that  form  of  faith.  ISTotwith standing  the 
publication  of  his  defence  of  the  Jesuits,  I  feel  per- 
suaded that  he  was  a  firm  believer  in  man's  moral 
freedom,  and  in  salvation  through  grace,  the  grand 
principle  of  the  Protestant  church. 

No  other  one  has  ever  been  to  me  in  things  re- 
ligious what  IN'ovalis  was.  The  deep  and  earnest 
faith  which  had  been  brought  home  to  me  in  my 
childhood  began  to  revive  again  while  I  was  with 
him,  and  entered  into  all  my  inquiries,  taking  the 


STEFFFXS'S  HUMILIATION.  Ill 

first  place  there,  and  demanding  to  be  made  the 
basis  of  all  my  work  in  life. 

Before  I  go  on  to  speak  of  the  eminent  men  whom 
it  has  been  my  privilege  to  know,  I  have  one  or  two 
confessions  to  make  to  the  reader.  It  was  about  the 
time  of  which  I  am  now  writing  that  I  discovered 
that  passions  which  I  despised  in  others  I  was  in 
no  wise  free  from.  On  a  geological  tour  I  hap- 
pened to  come  to  Carlsbad.  Games  of  hazard  were 
strictly  forbidden  there,  yet  they  were  played  in  se- 
cret, and  in  some  way,  which  I  do  not  now  remem- 
ber, I  found  myself  one  evening  in  the  gambling- 
room.  I  saw  men  at  the  faro-table  who  evidently 
belonged  to  the  better  class.  The  varying  passions 
of  the  players  interested  me,  yet  I  thought  that  if  I 
were  in  their  place  I  could  command  m^fbelf  as  they 
could  not.  I  will  play  a  little,  I  thought,  and  when 
I  gain  or  lose  a  few  pieces  I  will  stop.  Those  fierce 
passions  which  I  saw  displayed  around  me  I  cer- 
tainly could  not  have.  So  I  began,  as  everybody 
does,  with  the  smallest  sum.  I  was  successful.  I 
doubled  it ;  fortunate  again.  I  still  increased,  and 
still  had  the  winning  side ;  and  so  I  played  till  far 
into  the  night,  and  gained  a  not  inconsiderable  sum. 
I  can  remain  here  a  number  of  days,  I  thought. 
The  next  evening:  found  me  asjain  at  the  faro-table. 
My  fortune  remained  true  to  me,  and  I  stayed  three 
weeks  there,  and  was  constantly  successful.  I  did 
not  have  great  and  bewildering  strokes  of  fortune, 
but  still  my  gains  were  constantly  growing,  and 
every  addition  to  them  delighted  me.  There  is 
something  bewitching  in  the  game.     The  intricate 


112  TEE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

combinations  set  the  whole  imagination  in  activity. 
We  dream  that  behind  the  arbitrary  cast  some  mys- 
terious power  is  at  work,  which  once  enlisted  on  our 
side  will  always  remain  true  to  us.  The  great  sums 
of  money  which  lie  upon  the  open  table  and  j)ass  to 
and  fro,  make  us  forget  the  value  which  we  else- 
where, in  common  life,  put  upon  it.  A  gold  piece 
there  is  nothing.  We  seem  to  be  masters  of  gi- 
gantic fortunes,  and  we  act  as  if  we  were  dealing 
with  the  fabulous  treasures  which  we  conjure  up  in 
our  dreams.  It  is  a  strange,  dark,  fearful  figure,  the 
goddess  of  the  gambling-table,  which  at  first  makes 
us  shudder,  and  seduces  us  away  and  holds  us  fast. 

At  other  places  I  was  accustomed  to  meet  with 
men,  as  my  associates,  who  were  wholly  busied  with 
intellectual  pursuits.  Among  these  men  were  some 
of  the  noblest  spirits  of  the  age.  A  dim  remem- 
brance of  this  followed  me,  and  at  last  it  became  a 
constant  torment ;  but  it  called  me  to  myself  I 
asked  myself.  Who  are  my  companions  now  ?  Pseu- 
do-officers, needy  adventurers,  were  the  ones  who 
had  found  in  me  a  friend.  I  thought  with  a  shud- 
der on  the  blaze  appearance,  the  indifference  which 
they  expressed  about  anything  noble  or  holy,  the 
dreadful  levity  with  which  they  looked  upon  every- 
thing which  I  valued,  —  and  yet  I  had  been  living 
for  three  weeks  in  the  society  of  these  men.  How 
common  they  seemed  to  me  now !  How  shameful  I 
felt  in  my  degradation.  Tears  started  from  my  eyes. 
I  leaped  op  at  once,  —  it  was  in  the  night,  —  ordered 
a  post-chaise,  and  hurried  from  the  place,  and  from 
that  time  to  this  I  have  not  been  within  a  gambling- 


STEFFENS^S  HUMILIATION,  113 

room.  In  flight  was  my  only  security,  but  I  was 
happily  saved  just  in  time. 

But  I  was  not  yet  out  of  trouble.  I  still  had  the 
money  which  I  had  gained,  but  it  was  my  curse.  At 
Kostritz  I  stopped  at  an  inn  where  was  tarrying  a 
company  of  strolling  actors.  There  were  not  many 
guests,  and  so  I  became  quite  intimate  with  them. 
My  money  went  freely  for  wine  and  costly  enter- 
tainments.  My  usual  sense  seemed  to  have  been 
taken  from  me,  and  one  day  I  descended  to  the 
step  of  proposing  to  join  them  as  a  fellow-actor. 
They  were  delighted,  and  applauded  my  resolution 
to  the  echo.  I  remained  with  them  for  days,  utterly 
insensible  to  the  meanness  of  my  company,  till  at 
last  the  happy  thought  occurred  to  me  that  by  and 
by  the  name  of  Dr.  Stefiens,  the  strolling  actor, 
would  get  to  Denmark,  and  be  even  heard  in  Co- 
penhagen. I  tried  to  fancy  the  emotions  which  such 
an  event  would  awaken,  and  I  was  a  second  time 
shamed  into  sense  again.  Meantime  I  had  whistled 
my  money  all  away.  I  was  ready  to  start  on  my 
journeys  again,  a  wiser  if  a  poorer  man. 

I  allude  to  this  humbling  of  my  confidence  in 
myself,  merely  to  paint  anew  the  moral  of  a  tale 
which  will  be  repeated  to  the  end  of  time,  namely, 
that  no  youth  of  spirit  is  safe  in  tampering  with 
tools  which  thousands  of  men  as  wise  and  strons:  as 

he  have  turned  to  their  own  destruction.    And  now 

« 

I  go  on  with  the  story  of  my  life. 

I  returned  to  Dresden,  where  I  met  Tieck,  the 
poet,  novelist,  and  sculptor,  and  became  acquainted 
with  his  family.     He  was  then  living  in  Dresden. 


114         THE  STOEY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

Tieck  was  of  my  age,  twenty-eight  years.  He  was 
tall,  spare,  and  handsome,  while  his  eyes  were  of 
wonderful  clearness  *  and  power.  In  all  his  move- 
ments there  was  grace  and  delicacy ;  his  manner  of 
speaking  exactly  corresponded  to  his  bearing.  He 
wrote  hardly  more  beautifully  than  he  spoke.  It  is 
not  alone  the  clearness  with  which  he  grasps  every 
subject  which  he  handles  that  charms  us,  it  is  the 
harmonious  roundness  of  his  style*  which  has  such 
irresistible  fascination.  In  talking,  his  manner  was 
to  carefully  grasp  his  theme,  and  then  to  develop  it 
on  every  side,  yet  with  a  restrained  enthusiasm, 
through  which  his  language  caught  a  warmth  which 
seemed  to  come  rather  from  the  subject  of  conver- 
sation than  from  the  man  who  talked.  He  himself 
has  told  me  that  when,  in  the  higher  circles,  he  has 
been  compelled  to  listen  to  a  depreciation  of  what  is 
noblest  in  poetry,  —  when,  for  example,  he  has  heard 
scorn  thrown  on  the  chief  excellences  in  Goethe, — 
he  has  felt  himself  as  one  transformed.  Such  indig- 
nation was  fired  in  him  that  he  would  turn  pale ; 
but  he  had  such  command  of  himself  that  in  cir- 
cumstances where  I  should  have  answered  in  heat, 
he  could  keep  perfect  silence.  And  such  was  the 
effect  of  this  in  Tieck,  that  I  have  seen  his  most 
bitter  enemies  entirely  disarmed  by  his  significant 
silence.  And  I  venture  to  assert,  gentle  and  ap- 
proachable as  he  was  to  all,  he  has,  by  his  bearing 
when  in  society,  exercised  even  a  stronger  influence 
than  by  his  writings.  What  he  was  to  me,  during 
mi  intimacy  continued  for  many  years,  and  under 


CHARACTER   OF  TIECK.  115 

the  most  varied  circumstances,  and  in  spite  of  broad 
diiFerences  of  opinion,  I  cannot  easily  express. 

Tieck  was  remarkable  for  his  talent  in  mimicry. 
Had  he  been  trained  for  the  stage,  he  would  have 
been  the  greatest  actor  of  his  time  ;  and  even  in  his 
old  age,  when,  chained  to  his  chair  by  the  gout,  he 
read  a  play  to  a  few  friends,  it  was  so  real,  that 
what  we  might  see  at  the  theatre  appeared  frigid 
and  dull,  while  the  true  genius  of  the  drama  seemed 
to  be  before  us. 

I  have  seen  him,  on  the  birthday  of  his  wife, 
extemporize  a  play,  and  take  every  part  himself, 
assuming  characters  as  far  apart  as  a  man  and  an 
ourang-outang,  and  while  his  audience  was  con- 
vulsed with  laughter,  he  was  true  to  his  plot  and 
to  all  the  minutiae  of  expression  and  of  feature.  I 
could  scarcely  credit  my  eyes  at  so  remarkable  a 
display  of  histrionic  talent. 

Frederick  Schlegel  was  then  in  Dresden,  and  for 
months  I  lived  in  daily  intercourse  with  him  and 
with  Tieck.  How  rich  that  season  was  to  me  it  is 
hard  to  say,  for  tho  influence  of  a  man  like  Schlegel 
cannot  be  measured  as  an  abstract  thing ;  it  is  not 
merely  a  communicable  quality,  it  works  powerfully 
upon  the  whole  nature.  We  do  not  feel  ourselves 
fettered  by  his  presence,  but  rather  quickened  by 
it;  our  brightest  thoughts  are  then  stimulated  into 
being,  and  the  more  powerful  the  mind  which  is  ex- 
erting this  influence  over  us,  the  more  free  seems  to 
be  the  motion  of  our  own  mind.  In  the  companion- 
ship of  Schlegel  and  Tieck  I  began  to  understand 
the  fine  arts.     I  learned  how  to  trace  the  primitive 


116  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

conception  in  the  elaborate  and  finished  work,  the 
simple  in  the  complex  and  modish,  the  nature  of 
true  art  in  the  perversions  of  the  schools.  The 
great  political  epochs  of  the  Italians,  the  Spanish, 
the  English,  and  the  Germans,  were  brought  near  to 
me.  I  was  even  transferred  to  their  midst.  I  en- 
joyed the  past  as  if  it  were  the  present,  and  every- 
day brought  me  new  delights. 

Those  were  all  golden  moments.  I  had  now  been 
a  long  time  in  Germany,  and  had  traversed  it  in  all 
directions.  The  ease  with  which  I  made  acquaint- 
ances, and  the  readiness  with  which  I  sympathized 
with  their  joys  and  troubles,  had  made  the  circle  of 
ray  friendships  very  large.  In  Dresden,  hardly  a 
day  passed  in  which  I  did  not  meet  with  some  old 
acquaintance,  with  whom  I  could  .talk  over  past 
times  and  enjoy  a  cheerful  hour  in  the  present. 
I  learned  during  these  delightful  months  what  a 
charm  there  is  in  living  a  life  of  perfect  freedom 
from  care,  and  yet  a  life  rich  in  adventure,  where  I 
could  explore  any  department  of  knowledge  that 
I  wished,  and  could  link  myself  to  every  good  and 
noble  object.  And  at  the  close  of  the  year,  when  I 
looked  back  upon  it,  it  seemed  to  belong  among  the 
choicest  that  I  had  lived.  It  had  another  value, 
too,  besides  those  which  I  have  already  mentioned. 
Reichardt's  daughter,  then  seventeen  years  of  age, 
came  to  Dresden,  to  visit  her  aunt,  Tieck's  wife. 
To  what  this  acquaintance  led  will  be  seen  in  the 
sequel. 

I  had  dedicated  my  collection  of  papers  to  Goethe. 
On  account  of  this  I  had  to  endure  a  great  deal 


EXPERIMENTAL  PHILOSOPHY,  117 

• 

from  Frederick  Schlegel.  The  Delphian  Temple  of 
Higher  Poesy,  to  which  I  had  consecrated  my  book, 
gave  him  occasion  for  a  great  deal  of  ridicule.  As 
there  was  much  said  in  it  of  the  essential  oneness  of 
all  metals,  he  insisted  that  I  ought  to  have  subscribed 
myself  as  minister  extraordinary  of  metallics,  and 
privy  counsellor  of  the  metals.  But  Goethe  took 
a  warm  interest  in  my  production.  He  wrote  me  a 
long  letter,  and  what  interested  me  especially  in  it 
was,  his  telling  me  that  he  had  tried  the  experi- 
ment with  a  French  naturalist,  whether  he  were 
able  to  follow  the  whole  course  of  my  observa- 
tions, and  to  bring  the  metals  of  which  I  spoke 
into  important  relations  with  each  other,  and  into 
real  unity.  Goethe  was  convinced  that  the  French- 
man would  make  nothing  of  it.  The  gift  of  tracing 
such  things  he  insisted  was  wholly  wanting  to  the 
French  mind,  and  he  foresaw  exactly  what  kind  of 
a  reception  writings  such  as  mine  would  receive  in 
France;  and  not  in  France  alone,  but  among  all 
those  naturalists  of  Germany  whose  method  is  only 
experimental.  And  I  have  experienced  all  my  life 
what  he  distinctly  foresaw,  and  if  some  view  of  mine 
has  gained  acceptance  in  one  quarter  or  another,  yet 
the  spirit  which  lay  at  the  base  of  all  my  results  has 
not  been  appreciated.  Yet  my  great  admiration  of 
natural  science,  my  interest  in  their  discoveries,  my 
joy  at  their  progress,  have  always  been  great.  I 
have  known  enough  to  bear  always  in  mind  that 
natural  science  can  stand  on  its  awn  foundation. 
I  have  been  separated  from  empirical  naturalists 
through  the  diversity  of  our  principles  of  research, 


118  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

m 

yet  the  object  studied  is  the  same  to  us  both,  and 
many  ties  still  connect  us  in  our  inquiries.  Often 
have  I  had  occasion  to  say  in  my  arguments  with 
distinguished  physicists,  who  confessed  that  they 
could  not  understand  the  drift  of  my  thoughts,  that 
I  enjoyed  a  double  advantage,  in  that  the  enjoy- 
ment of  their  discoveries  was  not  denied  to  me,  and 
their  progress  a  source  of  joy  to  me,  while  from 
their  results  a  pleasure  was  granted  to  me  which 
was  not  even  granted  to  those  who  had  gained 
them.  I  never  underrated  their  results,  but  as  they 
were  purely  the  issues  of  experiments,  they  who 
gained  them  could  not  always  see  in  them  the 
workings  of  great  and  universal  laws. 

And  now  it  was  time  for  me  to  be  thinking  of 
home.  I  had  an  account  to  render  in  Denmark  for 
the  months  spent  in  Germany.  It  was,  indeed,  hard 
to  leave  a  land  which  I  had  learned  to  love  so  much, 
and  turn  away  from  friends  who  had  become  so  dear 
to  me.  But  just  then,  while  I  was  thinking  of  my 
journey  homeward,  I  received  an  invitation  to  ac- 
cept a  professorship  of  mineralogy  in  Ireland.  It 
was  procured  for  me  through  the  agency  of  Mitchel, 
a  fellow-student  at  Freiberg.  It  was  a  very  attrac- 
tive offer ;  the  salary  seemed  very  large  to  me,  and 
Ireland  was  as  yet  an  unexplored  field.  But  my 
want  of  English  was  in  my  eyes  a  good  reason  for  ^ 
not  accepting  the  offer.  I  read  it,  indeed,  with 
ease,  but  I  have  never  mastered  its  iDronunciation. 
Mitchel  insisted,  however,  that  three  months  in  an 
English  family  would  remedy  that  defect. 

This  unexpected  invitation  was,  of  course,  taken 


LEAVING   GERMANY.  119 

into  most  careful  consideration.  But  at  last  my 
affection  to  my  native  land  prevailed,  and  I  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  I  owed  my  service  to  her.  I 
refused  the  invitation,  and  so  changed  the  whole 
future  of  my  life. 

So  I  turned  my  steps  towards  the  home  of  my 
childhood.  What  my  career  there  would  be  could 
not  clearly  be  foretold.  I  hoped  to  give  philosophi- 
cal lectures  in  Copenhagen.  I  had  intended,  when 
I  left  Denmark,  to  extend  my  travels  to  Italy, 
France,  and  England,  and  yet  I  had  confined  my- 
self to  Jena,  Weimar,  Freiberg,  and  Dresden.  In 
this  limited  region,  I  had  met  the  objects  of  my 
highest  admiration ;  here  my  thoughts  had  found 
rich  soil  from  which  to  grow.  I  could  not  think 
without  sadness  of  leaving  a  country  which  had 
become  so  full  of  interest  to  me.  Even  the  lan- 
guage, the  repository  of  pure  thoughts,  had  an  end- 
less charm  to  me,  and  a  wonderful  harmony.  No 
other  tongue  seemed  to  me  to  speak  out  so  well 
the  emotions  of  the  soul,  no  other  to  present  the 
most  sharply-defined  thoughts,  the  most  lofty  poet- 
ry. Yet,  sad  as  was  the  leaving  of  Germany,  the 
thought  of  home  was  cheering.  I  was  wholly  a 
Dane.  The  great  purpose  of  my  life  was  to  be  use- 
ful to  my  country.  And  so  I  turned  my  back  upon 
beautiful  Dresden,  bade  adieu  to  my  many  friends, 
and  started  northward,  going  by  Jena  and  Halle. 
At  Jena,  I  found  Schelling  and  Hegel  united  in  a 
common  task,  and  on  terms  of  close  intimacy,  and  I 
could  not  part  without  tears  from  the  one  of  these 
two  men  whose  genius  had  summoned  me  to  Ger- 


120         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

many,  and  had  given  a  new  direction  to  my  life. 
Schelling,  too,  was  sensibly  moved.  At  Halle  I 
was  taken  into  Reichardt's  family  as  an  intimate 
friend,  and  there  was  betrothed  to  the  daughter, 
with  the  understanding  that  in  one  year  I  should 
return  and  claim  her  as  my  wife.  After  a  few  happy 
days  at  Halle,  I  again  set  my  steps  towards  home ; 
reached  Lubeck,  and  took  the  packet  for  Copen- 
hagen. 

Few  men  have  enjoyed  a  happier  youth  than  I. 
I  was  now  in  my  thirtieth  year,  and  if  I  deduct  two 
sad  twelvemonths,  the  rest  had  flown  by  in  un- 
broken quiet.  I  do  not  remember  that  ever  in  all 
that  time  I  had  one  anxious  thought  about  the 
future.  The  present  was  rich  in  happiness,  and  I 
did  not  despise  the  joys  of  the  hour.  I  was  com- 
pletely my  own  master,  independent  in  the  full 
sense  of  the  word.  Every  one  who  met  me  was 
friendly.  I  stood  in  no  man's  way,  and  few  had 
occasion  to  look  on  me  with  envy.  I  expected,  in- 
deed, sooner  or  later,  to  have  my  share  of  trouble  ; 
but  of  the  calamities  which  at  length  drove  me 
from  my  native  land,  no  glimpse  yet  appeared.  I 
went  home  at  a  very  critical  time  in  the  history 
of  Denmark.  It  was  just  after  the  English  inva- 
sion, and  the  attack  on  Copenhagen.  The  whole 
city,  at  the  time  I  arrived,  was  just  becoming  tran- 
quil after  the  intense  excitement  of  the  battle,  and 
I,  who  expected  to  entertain  rather  than  to  be  en- 
tertained, was  glad  to  listen  day  after  day  to  stories 
of  the  Danish  valor,  and  the  various  occurrences 
incident  to  so  startling  an  event.     All  that  I  had 


STEFFENS'S  KIND  RECEPTION,  121 

seen  sunk  into  insignificance  compared  with  what 
had  been  witnessed  at  home.  But  by  and  by 
the  excitement  wore  away,  and  common  interests 
crowded  forward  again  and  claimed  attention. 

The  events  which  had  taken  place  in  my  life  while 
in  Germany,  exercised  an  influence  upon  my  pros- 
pects at  home.  Count  Schimmelmann  received  me 
with  the  same  cordiality  which  he  had*  showed  me 
before  my  departure.  It  was  a  great  advantage  to 
enjoy  the  favor  of  a  man  who  had  such  control  of  the 
finances  of  the  kingdom,  and  who  was  so  enlight- 
ened a  scholar  and  so  constant  a  patron  of  science. 
I  told  him  of  my  call  to  Ireland,  and  of  my  refusal 
to  accept  it,  and  he  thereupon  granted  me  a  pen- 
sion ample  for  my  support  as  long  as  I  was  unmar- 
ried, with  the  promise  that  it  should  be  more  than 
doubled  after  my  marriage.  He  allowed  me  also  to 
select  my  own  department  of  labor.  I  then  showed 
him  what  was  the  course  which  I  had  marked  out 
for  myself  It  was  merely  to  give  public  lectures 
on  philosophy  and  on  geognosy.  My  object  was  to 
make  these  subjects  as  attractive  as  possible,  and  to 
attach  my  hearers  to  myself,  and  especially  such  as 
would  hereafter  be  government  officials  or  ministers 
in  the  desolate  villages  of  Norway.  I  thought  that 
I  should  thus  be  opening  resources  to  *them  which 
should  give  them  a  never-failing  subject  of  interest 
in  the  scenes  of  their  future  labors. 

The  plan  pleased  the  Count,  who  praised  its  sim- 
plicity. And  after  this  my  relations  with  him  grew 
more  intimate,  and  had  I  depended  upon  him  alone 
I  should  never  have  left  Denmark- 


122         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

If  I  was  made  happy  by  the  kindness  of  Schim- 
raelmann,   my  joy  was  not    lessened  by  a  letter 
which  I  soon  received  from  Goethe.     It  was  the 
intention  of  the  literary  circle  to  which  I  was  so 
j   closely  bound,  to   establish  a  Review  at  Jena,  to 
;   which  Goethe,  Schleiermacher,  Tieck,  Schlegel,  and 
\  Schelling,  should  be  the  chief  contributors.     It  was 
^  to  be  based»on  the  metaphysical  system  of  the  last 
named,  and  was  to  be  mainly  devoted  to  a  connect- 
ing of  SchelHng's  philosophy  with  the  literature  of 
the  day.    And  Goethe's  object  in  writing  to  me  was 
to  propose  that  I  should  contribute  a  critical  sum- 
mary of  that  philosophy  to  the  first  number  of  the 
Review.     I  confess  that  I  was  equally  surprised  and 
gratified  at  the  invitation.     Unquestionably  it  was 
extended    through  SchelHng's   influence,   and  that 
was  a  touching  proof  of  the  confidence  which  he 
had  in  my  mastery  of  his  system ;  but,  despite  all 
this,  I  had  to  decline   the  request.     The  fall  was 
approaching,  and  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  give 
my  whole  time  to  the  preparation  of  my  course  of 
lectures.     I  was  going  to  do  my  own  work  in  Co- 
penhagen well,  and  the  preparing  of  an  article  which 
should  be  worthy  of  the  subject  would  demand  time 
.  which  I  could  not  give. 

But  there  soon  began  to  appear  a  disagreeable 
side  to  my  life.  If  I  could  look  to  Count  Schim- 
melmann  for  countenance  and  support,  there  was 
another  high  official  from  whom  I  expected  nothing 
but  opposition.  This  was  the  Duke  of  Augusten- 
burg,  brother  of  the  king.  He  was  wholly  in  the 
interest  of  the  conservative  party;  he  looked  with 


AN  ANNOYANCE.  123 

special  distrust  at  the  new  philosophy  of  Germany, 
and  spoke  of  it  with  great  contempt.  A  reaction- 
ary Review  at  Berlin,  Nicolai's,  noticed  for  its  hos- 
tility to  the  Weimar  and  Jena  school,  attacked  me 
in  a  violent  and  abusive  way,  not  only  charging  me 
with  adopting  a  foolish  philosophical  system,  but, 
what  was  more  painful  to  my  feelings,  with  taking 
money  which  the  Danish  government  granted  to 
me  for  geognostical  studies,  and  applying  it  to 
uses  so  variant  from  this  as  the  sustaining  of  tran- 
scendental philosophers.  Nicolai's  Review  was  read 
at  Copenhagen,  and  the  article  was  shown  to  the 
Duke  of  Augustenburg.  He  summoned  me  to  him, 
and  showed  me  very  plainly  that  I  need  hereafter 
expect  no  help  from  him.  In  his  eyes  it  was  a 
serious  matter  that  I  had  been  attacked  by  Nicolai. 
And  I  could  not  persuade  him  that  it  was  solely 
provoked  by  the  hostility  of  the  publisher,  not  to 
myself,  but  to  Schelling  and  Goethe. 

The  summer  wore  away.  I  worked  hard  at  my 
lectures,  and  went  much  into  society,  yet  I  hardly 
knew  that  I  was  the  subject  of  much  town  talk. 
There  was  then  a  general  dislike  to  everything  Ger- 
man. I  was  often  spoken  of  as  the  German  doctor. 
Once  a  Dane  came  to  me  and  asked  me  why  I  had 
not  published  my  geognostical  work  in  my  mother 
tongue.  I  replied  by  asking  him  if  he  would  be  re- 
sponsible for  the  cost  of  publication  in  Danish. 

I  soon  found  that  the  conservatives  were  hard  at 
work  against  me.  Charges  were  brought  that  I  was 
trying  to  supersede  older  men,  and  supplant  their 
systems  by  my  own.     "  We  have  Prof.  Riisbrigh," 


124         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

they  said,  "and  what  more  can  we  ask?"  The  most 
foolish  allegations  were  made  about  me.  It  was 
currently  reported  that  I  had  asserted  that  I  could 
not  think  in  Danish.  As  I  walked  along  the  streets 
I  could  hear  people  whisper,  "  There  goes  the  young 
man  who,  after  he  has  been  two  years  in  Germany, 
can't  think  in  his  mother  tongue."  I  laughed  at  all 
this,  until  at  last  a  note  came  from  Count  Schim- 
melmann  cautioning  me  on  being  guarded  in  my 
expressions,  and  telling  me  that  he  had  heard  the 
rumor  above  mentioned. 

I  must  confess  that  a  certain  sense  of  pride  which 
I  felt  may  have  exhibited  itself  in  my  bearing,  and 
may  have  stirred  up  people  to  circulate  such  unjust 
reports  and  feel  ill-will.  I  remember  that  a  rich 
gentleman  came  to  me  one  day,  and  asked  me  to 
give  him  instruction  in  the  German  philosophy.  I 
knew  the  man  well,  and  was  aware  that  he  was  en- 
tirely unable  to  comprehend  a  single  philosophical 
idea.  When  he  had  made  the  proposal,  I  said,  "  Be- 
fore we  come  to  any  arrangement  I  must  inform  you 
of  the  plan  which  I  have  adopted  with  regard  to 
compensation.  The  sum  which  I  receive  depends 
entirely  upon  the  aptitude  of  the  learner,  and  the 
advantage  which  he  receives  from  my  instructions, 
with  this  important  consideration,  that  the  money 
received  is  in  inverse  ratio  to  the  good  conferred. 
The  more  he  learns,  the  less  I  receive.  Whoever 
entirely  follows  my  thoughts,  and  grasps  the  whole 
subject,  will  not  owe  me  anything;  but  the  man  who 
has  the  misfortune  not  to  understand  a  word,  can- 
not adequately  pay  me  for  my  trouble."     Of  course 


STEFFBN^S'S  LECTURES  AT  COPENHAGEN       125 

he  took  umbrage,  and  did  not  renew  the  proposal ; 
and  it  may  be  readily  imagined  that  my  trifling 
added  him  to  the  number  of  my  opponents. 

My  lectures  began  in  October,  1803.  They  were 
open  to  the  public,  of  course.  I  was  in  high  spirits. 
What  had  been  in  my  youth  the  secret  of  my  own 
soul,  cherished,  but  never  expressed,  the  subject 
which  fascinated  me  while  it  yet  repelled  me,  was 
now  to  be  brought  by  me  to  the  minds  of  men,  and 
to  become  the  theme  of  my  daily  instructions.  I 
knew  the  strength  of  my  adversaries.  I  was  confi- 
dent of  my  own  powers,  but  I  did  not  stop  to  ask 
whether  the  contest  which  was  before  me  was  worth 
the  pains  of  the  battle.  I  felt  no  downcast  fear  as 
to  the  issue.  I  knew,  indeed,  that,  supported  by  a 
band  of  young  adherents,  I  must  encounter  the  most 
resolute  opposition,  not  only  from  the  court,  from  all 
the  conservative  elements  of  society,  but  the  more  I 
thought  of  this,  the  more  I  was  stimulated  to  go  on. 
I  regretted  heartily  my  many  little  hasty  speeches 
which  had  given  offence  to  those  who  would  have 
been  my  friends,  and  I  could  not  fail  to  see  the 
threatening  aspect  of  my  whole  future.  I  saw  that 
there  was  no  bond  of  connection  between  my  scien- 
tific systems  and  those  of  my  friends.  They  dealt 
alone  with  the  conditioned,  I  with  the  free  and  un- 
conditioned, and  there  could  be  no  tie  between  us. 
And  I  could  not  help  feeling  that  the  views  which 
I  held  were  of  great  worth.  My  lectures  were  not 
to  be  mere  dealings  with  abstractions,  —  they  con- 
cerned life,  immortality,  and  God,  —  and  I  could  not 
refrain  from  prayer  in  my  own  room  before  I  went 


126  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

before  the  public  assembly.  It  was  the  first  prayer, 
I  suppose,  which  I  had  offered  since  the  days  of  my 
childhood.  I  had  talked  much  about  Christianity, 
but  this  prayer  went  deeper  than  my  talk,  even  to 
the  root  of  religion.  I  carried  the  influence  of  my 
prayer  to  the  lecture-room.  Faith,  unconquerable 
and  serene,  became  the  basis  of  all  my  wisdom,  and 
did  not  desert  me. 

My  lodgings  were  directly  across  the  street  from 
the  lecture-room,  and  as  I  looked  out  I  could  see  an 
excited  crowd.  Two  of  my  friends  came  in  to  go 
over  with  me,  and  I  saw  that  they  were  nervously 
anxious.  We  crossed  the  street ;  the  doorway  of 
the  hall  was  full ;  we  could  scarcely  effect  an  en- 
trance. At  last  way  was  made,  and  I  passed  into 
the  hall,  which  was  crowded  with  men.  Even  the 
windows  were  all  occupied.  As  I  stepped  upon  the 
stage  there  was  perfect  silence.  In  an  instant  I 
felt  free  from  embarrassment,  and  no  tremulousness 
could  be  detected  in  my  speech.  I  did  not  venture 
to  speak  without  manuscript.  I^evertheless,  I  was 
carried  away  by  my  interest  in  the  subject,  and  such 
was  my  earnestness  and  the  glow  of  my  manner 
that  I  do  not  wonder  that  I  gained  applause  for  elo- 
quence. It  is  plain  that  my  audience  was  pleased. 
Day  after*  day  the  hall  was  thronged,  and  people 
went  an  hour  before  the  time  to  secure  good  seats. 
And  it  was  not  students  alone  who  attended  my 
lectures.  Professors,  savans,  officials  of  high  posi- 
tion, were  there.  The  interest  which  the  public 
took  in  them  was  unprecedented ;  they  were  the 
talk  of  the  town.    But  I  was  too  much  in  earnest 


S TEFFENS  '8  LECTURES  A  T  COPENHA  G EN.       127 

with  my  work  to  be  foolishly  elated.  It  seemed  to 
be  a  serious  thing  to  influence  a  community  as  I 
was  doing,  and  I  looked  upon  it  in  a  most  serious 
light. 

My  popularity  was  increased  by  a  little  circum- 
stance which  occurred  soon  after  the  lectures  com- 
menced. On  the  fifth  or  the  sixth  day  I  accidentally 
left  my  manuscript  at  home,  and  did  not  discover 
its  absence  till  I  was  on  the  platform.  I  disliked 
to  send  for  it,  and  ventured  to  proceed  without  it, 
stating  the  circumstance  to  my  audience,  and  beg- 
ging their  indulgence.  I  saw  that  I  had  only  stim- 
ulated their  curiosity,  and  that  they  expected  a  slow 
and  stumbhng  performance.  But  the  subject  lay  so 
clear  in  my  mind  that  I  found  that  I  could  commu- 
nicate my  thoughts  better  extempore  than  by  read- 
ing from  manuscript.  My  audience  were  equally 
surprised  and  delighted.  I  was  so  pleased  with  my 
success  that  I  determined  to  give  up  my  manuscript 
forever.  Yet  this  whole  occurrence  was  wrested  by 
my  adversaries  to  my  disadvantage.  They  had  the 
malice  to  assert  that  the  thing  was  premeditated ; 
that  I  had  committed  my  lecture  to  memory,  and 
then  recited  it  by  heart. 

Meanwhile  the  crowds  at  my  lectures  grew  larger 
and  larger.  It  began  to  be  rumored  that  I  should 
be  forbidden  to  speak  in  public,  and  my  audience 
was  in  daily  expectation  of  seeing  some  high  official 
rise  during  my  speaking  and  impose  silence  upon 
me.  But  my  adversaries  did  not  take  that  course. 
They  worked  with  more  subtlety  and  strove  to 
undermine  my  reputation.     And  in  this  they  sue- 


128         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

ceeded.  I  looked  to  Count  Reventlow  for  assistance 
in  jDrocuring  a  field  for  my  geognostic  investigations. 
He  was  the  avowed  enemy  of  all  speculative  philos- 
ophy, and  was  unwilling  to  believe  that  a  man  could 
be  a  metaphysician  and  a  practical  man  at  the  same 
time.  And  so,  with  my  opponents  urging  him  on 
against  me,  it  is  plain  that  the  future  must  have 
begun  to  wear  a  somewhat  gloomy  aspect. 

But  the  fall  and  the  winter  wore  away,  and  I 
went  on  with  my  lectures.  The  hall  continued  to 
be  well  filled,  although  of  course  the  excitement 
witnessed  at  the  outset  could  not  be  kept  up.  The 
opposition  of  my  enemies  grew,  meanwhile,  and 
Schimmelmann  was  the  only  minister  upon  whom 
I  could  rely.  Gradually  the  year  wore  round,  and 
the  time  grew  near  for  me  to  return  to  Halle  and 
claim  my  bride. 

At  length  I  went  to  Giebichenstein.  I  was  re- 
ceived with  a  great  welcome.  I  spent  a  part  of  my 
time  with  Reil  in  Halle,  and  the  rest  of  the  time, 
how  happy  it  may  be  imagined,  in  Reichardt's  fam- 
ily. I  was  married  the  fourth  of  September,  1803. 
We  remained  at  my  new  home  for  a  week  after  the 
wedding.  The  parents  saw  their  daughter  leave 
them  for  her  northern  home  with  many  tears ;  we 
took  our  leave  and  started  for  Berlin.  We  tarried 
there  at  the  house  of  my  wife's  brother.  Plow  dif- 
ferent did  Berlin  seem  to  me  now  from  what  it  did 
before.  Tieck  was  not  there,  but  I  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  his  sister.  I  met  the  elder  Schlegel 
there.*  I  there  became  acquainted  with  Schleierma- 
cher.     The  few  days  spent  in  the  city  were  of  great 


MARRIED  LIFE  AT  COPENHAGEN,  129 

interest,  and  they  awakened  fresh  memories  of  the 
many  happy  days  which  I  had  spent  in  Germany. 

At  length  we  arrived  at  Copenhagen,  and  the  first 
days  could  not  be  agreeable  to  a  lady  who,  like  my 
wife,  had  hardly  known  what  care  was.  She  could 
speak  Danish  hardly  at  all,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
leave  her  at  the  hotel  all  day,  while  I  was  busy  in 
arrano-inor  all  the  details  of  our  house.  I  used  often 
to  return  and  find  her  in  tears.  My  friends  came  in 
to  see  us,  but,  as  they  could  not  talk  German,  their 
visits  were  only  an  annoyance  to  my  wife. 

Nevertheless,  time  went  by.  We  got  accustomed 
to  our  lot,  and  were  soon  invited  into  very  agree- 
able society.  The  Countess  Schimmelmann,  and 
many  of  the  first  ladies  of  Copenhagen,  received 
my  wife  very  kindly,  and  often  invited  us  to  their 
homes.  Many  things  were  made  very  agreeable  to 
us,  and  it  may  seem  as  if  our  life  in  Denmark  must 
have  been  very  pleasant.  But  it  was  far  from  it. 
The  furnishing  of  my  house  had  plunged  me  into 
erabarrassinc:  debts.  I  had  thus  far  in  life  lived 
without  any  perplexity  regarding  money,  and  when 
I  found  myself  in  momentary  trouble  there  was 
always  some  way  out  soon  found.  But  now  my 
embarrassments  were  serious,  for  I  had  not  alone 
myself  to  care  for,  —  the  welfare  of  another  one  was 
in  my  keeping.  Even  now,  in  my  old  age,  I  am  not 
familiar  ^\\\X\  all  the  details  of  business,  and  the  care 
of  money  is  something  I  know  nothing  about.  And 
so,  in  Copenhagen,  the  future  towered  gloomily  be- 
fore me.  I  was  saddled  with  debts,  and  with  all  the 
thrift  that  I  could  exercise  my  income  did  not  prove 


130  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

sufficient  to  meet  my  current  expenses.  I  tried  to 
hide  my  cares  from  my  wife  as  much  as  I  could,  but 
she  could  not  help  seeing  the  posture  of  my  affairs. 

Meanwhile  my  enemies  continued  their  attacks, 
and  even  went  so  far  as  to  assert  that  a  young  man 
had  been  made  insane  in  consequence  of  my  teach- 
ing. It  was  plain  that  sooner  or  later  my  lectures 
would  be  proscribed,  and  my  strongest  friends  be 
compelled  to  give  up  my  cause.  This  gave  me  new 
anxfeties.  I  could  see  no  means  of  warding  off"  the 
attacks  of  my  enemies.  I  could  not  live  down  op- 
position. I  should  starve  before  I  had  done  it. 
What  I  said  was  perverted  by  malice,  and  what  I 
did  was  caricatured.  Those  were,  indeed,  trying 
days. 

All  at  once  the  day  bi*oke.  In  March,  1804,  I 
received  a  letter  from  Dr.  Reil,  of  Halle,  which 
awakened  new  hopes.  He  stated  that  it  was  the 
intention  of  the  Prussian  government  to  promote 
the  interests  of  the  university  there  by  calling 
thither  eminent  and  rising  young  men  from  abroad, 
and  he  asked  whether  it  would  be  agreeable  to  ac- 
cept the  post  of  Professor  ordinarius  of  Natural  Phi- 
losophy, Physiology,  and  Mineralogy.  "  Upon  that 
hint  I  spake."  I  told  him  in  reply  what  the  whole 
condition  of  my  circumstances  was,  and  that  much 
as  I  loved  my  country  and  washed  to  serve  her,  she 
had  thrust  me  moodily  away  and  would  not  accept 
my  service.  I  told  him  how  much  I  loved  Ger- 
many, and  how  glad  beyond  measure  my  wife  would 
be  to  have  me  accept  such  a  call.  In  truth,  we  were 
both  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight.    I  had  not  known'  till 


SECOND  RECEPTION  BY  GOETHE.  131 

then  liow  much  my  heart  was  drawn  to  Germany. 
And  bitter  as  was  the  thought  of  being  driven 
from  my  own  country,  the  prospect  of  such  a  life  as 
awaited  me  was  enough  to  make  it  tolerable.  My 
wife  had  not  told  me  before  how  much  her  heart 
had  yearned  for  home.  And  now  it  seemed  that 
she  was  to  live  within  cannon-shot  of  her  father's 
door.  Reil  forwarded  money  enough  to  pay  the 
most  pressing  bills,  and  we  prepared  for  the  jour- 
ney. I  wished  to  be  in  Halle  by  September,  in 
order  to  have  ample  time  to  prepare  my  lectures. 
And  thus  closed  that  strange  episode  of  life  in  Co- 
penhagen. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

RETURN  TO  HALLE -— COMMENCES  HOUSEKEEPING  —  DARK  PROS- 
PECTS —  SCHLEIERMACHER  —  LIFE  AS  PROFESSOR  AT  HALLE  — 
FICHTE  —  JOHANNES  VON  MCLLER  —  ALEX.  VON  HUMBOLDT  — 
POLITICAL  ASPECTS  — WARLIKE  APPEARANCES  —  EXCITED  FEEL- 
ING IN  HALLE  — THE  SEIZING  OF  THE  CITY  BY  THE  FRENCH 
—  NAPOLEON  AT  HALLE  —  THE  UNIVERSITY  BROKEN  UP  BY 
NAPOLEON  —  SAD    DAYS  —  UNSETTLED    LIFE    FROM    180G   TO    1808. 

!N'oT\viTH STANDING  all  Hiy  exultant  delight  over 
my  future,  I  could  not  leave  my  own  country,  when 
the  hour  of  parting  came,  without  many  sorrows. 
For  her  sake  I  had  given  up  the  flattering  call  to 
Ireland,  and  had  gone  home  with  the  fullest  inten- 
tion of  devoting  my  whole  energies  to  the  good  of 
my  native  land.  I  was  now,  as  it  were,  an  exile.  I 
should  have  to  give  up  my  sweet  mother  tongue, 
and  only  speak  in  foreign  accents.  I  was  full  of 
sadness,  and  it  was  not  till  the  packet  had  -brought 
us  almost  to  the  German  shore  that  my  spirits  re- 
vived. But  they  did  revive,  partly  by  way  of  reac- 
tion, partly  in  consequence  of  my  wife's  joy.  And 
when  I  came  to  Hamburg  the  German  language 
seemed  so  homelike  that  that  trouble  passed  by, 
and  I  felt  quite  happy  again.  At  Kiel  I  met  Hens- 
ler,  so  well  known  to  the  readers  of  Niebuhr's  Life. 
At  Hamburg  I  visited  Madame  Sieveking,  the  Eliz- 
abeth Fry-  bf  Germany.    The  whole  North  was  then 

132 


COMMENCES  HOUSEKEEPING  IN  HALLE.         133 

in  possession  of  the  French,  and  it  was  wonderful 
in  what  apathy  the  people  lived  under  this  for- 
eign power.  The  course  of  Napoleon  was  then 
unchecked.  He  had  almost  without  opposition 
gained  possession  of  the  northern  duchies.  But  at 
Berlin  we  found  no  fear  of  his  progress.  I  could 
see  no  good  reason  for  such  security,  but  as  the  peo- 
ple felt  no  alarm,  mine  soon  passed  away. 

In  September,  1804,  a  year  after  my  wedding,  I 
restored  the  much-loved  daughter  to  the  aims  of 
her  parents.  It  was  a  happy  day  to  all.  I  at  once 
busied  myself  in  makings  arrangements  for  house- 
keeping, but  I  soon  fell  into  trouble  again.  My 
father-in-law  had  hired  a  house  far  too  large  for  our 
necessities,  and  the  whole  outlay  had  to  be  pro- 
portioned to  the  splendor  of  the  mansion.  I  had 
almost  no  library,  and  rich  as  was  that  of  the  uni- 
versity in  old  books,  it  was  not  supplied  with  those 
works  which  were  indispensable  to  me.  I  had  no 
mineral  cabinet,  and  the  one  which  belonged  to  the 
university  was  worthless.  It  would  be  necessary  for 
me  to  procure  one.  To  add  to  my  perplexities  I 
found  that  the  sum  which  had  been  advanced  to 
me  at  Copenhagen  to  settle  my  most  urgent  debts 
there  would  be  deducted  from  my  salary,  and  leave 
me  without  resources  for  my  first  three  months. 
And  to  add  to  all,  rivalries  and  jealousies  arose 
among  the  professors,  and  I  found  that  as  a  for- 
eigner, and  a  Dane  at  that,  and  as  an  advocate  of 
the  new  transcendental  philosophy,  I  had  the  same 
battle  to  fight  in  Halle  which  I  had  already  fought 
in  Copenhagen.     The  men  who  held  to  empirical 


134  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

science,  and  looked  no  further,  began  to  circulate 
the  vilest  rumors  about  me.  It  was  asserted  that 
my  wife  and  I  had  become  Catholics.  A  public 
journal  had  me  in  its  columns  as  an  atheist.  Sto- 
ries passed  around  regarding  the  looseness  of  my 
life.  It  was  said  that  I  was  in  the  daily  use  of  large 
potions  of  opium  and  lived  in  constant  intoxica- 
tion. One  professor  expressed  to  my  wife  his  sor- 
row over  my  mercurial  temperament,  and  his  fear 
that  I  should  come  to  an  early  death  from  over- 
excitement.  I  had  a  slight  inflammation  of  the 
throat  and  had  to  call  in  a  physician.  He  asked  me 
if  I  did  not  have  a  trembling  of  my  hands  every 
morning  till  I  had  taken  a  good  dose  of  schnapps. 
I  was  so  angry  that  I  asked  him  whether  he  had  any 
desire  to  know  what  these  trembling  hands  could 
do.  It  was  very  plain  that  trouble  was  before  me, 
and  that  discomforts  were  to  be  found  at  Halle  as 
well  as  everywhere  else. 

There  were  five  philosophical  professors  in  the 
university.  They  WQre  all  men  of  some  note,  and 
stood  together  in  compact  unity  to  resist  the  young 
advocMe  .  of  Schelling's  philosophy.  All  but  one 
were  avowed  followers  of  Kant.  They  carried  their 
opposition  so  far  as  to  warn  the  young  men  against 
me.  To  add  to  my  perplexities  was  the  knowledge 
that  I  had  not  yet  advanced  far  enough  to  trace  the 
relations  between  physics  and  Schelling's  metaphys- 
ics. I,  indeed,  believed  that  I  had  in  the  latter  an 
ars  inve7iie7idi^  which  would  exercise  a  real  influ- 
ence in  the  development  of  physical  science,  and  in 
the  treatment  of  all  its  departments.     I  did  not  yet 


OPPOSITION  IN  HALLE.  135 

clearly  see  that  Schelling's  system  and  the  experi- 
mental system  were  so  wholly  outside  of  each  other 
that  they  must  expand  in  completely  different  ways ; 
that  they  would  give  rise  to  two  entirely  variant 
sciences ;  that  the  endeavor  to  interfuse  experi- 
mental philosophy  with  what  was  called  the  nature 
philosophy  would  only  be  destruction  to  the  for- 
mer. Schelling's  transcendental  system  in  contrast 
with  the  Kantian  or  Baconian  is  thoroughly  ideal, 
and  that  for  this  reason,  that  its  reality  lies  in  the 
All.  The  influence  which  it  exerts  over  every  em- 
pirical science  is,  therefore,  hard  to  trace  to  details. 
This  is,  moreover,  true,  also,  of  history.  All  em- 
piricism proceeds  from  the  visible,  the  granted,  the 
connections  and  the  relations  of  conditioned  forms  ; 
and  where  she  directs  herself  to  the  discovery  of 
universal  laws  she  never  transcends  the  limits  of 
sense,  and  the  worth  of  her  discoveries  depends 
upon  the  clearness  with  which  she  views  her  field 
of  search.  What  lies  beyond  it  has  no  value  to  the 
empirical  philosopher.  And  if  I  could  not  yet  see 
that  Schelling's  system  of  transcendental  philoso- 
phy, which  deals  with  the  unseen  and  the  uncondi- 
tioned, was  wholly  outside  of  the  empirical  system, 
how  should  I  be  able  to  make  myself  understood  in 
my  lectures?  I  saw  that  I  should  become  the  object 
of  the  strongest  opposition.  And  yet  my  confidence 
was  so  strong  that  I  did  not  fear  the  combined  an- 
tagonism of  all  the  forces  which  might  be  brought 
against  me. 

And  there  was,  indeed,  a  bright  side.    During  the 
two  years  which  I  had  spent  in  Denmark,  Schelling's 


136  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

system  had  gained  many  adherents,  and  awakened 
much  interest  among  the  young  men  of  the  univer- 
sity. It  was  plain  to  the  acutest  observers  that 
with  the  new  century  was  to  dawn  a  new  day  in 
science.  Another  spirit  was  abroad,  and  opposition 
to  the  men  of  the  future  by  the  men  of  the  past 
would  be  vain.  There  were  also  two  privat  dO' 
cents  in  the  college  who  were  adherents  to  the  new 
system.  They  soon  were  called  away  from  Halle, 
but  they  supported  my  views  at  the  first.  Schel- 
ling  in  Jena  was  my  firm  friend,  and  I  could  rely  on 
his  full  support.  Wolf,  the  great,  the  eminent  phi- 
lologist, was  then  the  chief  light  of  Halle.  He 
warmly  espoused  my  views.  Reil,  who  procured 
me  the  call  to  Halle,  was  true  from  first  to  last. 
Mickel,  the  anatomist,  and  Spengler,  the  well-known 
historian  of  medicine,  were  constant  friends ;  and 
great  numbers  of  the  young  men  were  -only  stimu- 
lated by  the  opposition  made  to  me  to  become  my 
most  enthusiastic  pupils. 

I  ought  here  to  speak  of  a  man,  the  making  of 
whose  acquaintance  formed  an  epoch  in  my  life.  I 
allude  to  Schleiermacher,  who  was  called  to  Halle 
^s  professor  extraordinary  at  the  same  time  with 
myself,  or  a  few  weeks  later.  Schleiermacher,  as  is 
well  known,  was  small  in  stature,  and  somewhat  de- 
formed, yet  not  so  much  as  to  be  very  apparent. 
He  was  quick  in  all  his  movements,  and  his  counte- 
nance was  very  expressive.  A  certain  sharpness  in 
his  eye  might  to  some  be  a  little  repulsive.  He 
seemed  to  look  you  through.  He  was  some  years 
older  than  I.    His  face  was  long,  his  features  sharply 


SCHLEIEliMA  CHER.  137 

drawn,  the  lips  firmly  pressed  together,  the  chin 
protruding,  the  eye  keen  and  fiery,  the  countenance 
composed,  serious,  and  thoughtful.  I  saw  him  in 
the  most  varied  circumstances, — in  deep  meditation, 
playful,  jocose,  mild,  and  indignant,  moved  with  joy 
and  with  pain ;  but  in  all  there  was  a  constant  un- 
derlying calmness,  greater  and  more  able  to  control 
his  spirit  than  the  passing  gush  of  feeling.  And  yet 
there  was  nothing  impassive  in  this  calmness.  A 
touch  of  irony  played  over  his  features,  real  sym- 
pathy with  man  never  deserted  him,  and  a  child's 
goodness  and  sweetness  were  always  his.  His  con- 
stant though  tfulness  had  wonderfully  mastered  his 
natural  temper  and  tone.  While  he  was  in  the 
most  mirthful  conversation,  nothing  escaped  him. 
He  saw  everything  that  transpired  around  him,  he 
heard  everything,  even  the  low  talk  of  others.  Art 
has  wonderfully  perpetuated  his  face.  Ranch's  bust 
of  him  is  one  of  the  master-triumphs  of  skill,  and 
whoever  has  lived  as  intimately  with  him  as  I,  is 
almost  startled  when  he  looks  upon  it.  It  often 
seems  to  me  as  if  he  were  there,  in  my  presence,  as 
if  he  were  just  on  the  point  of  opening  those  lips 
and  uttering  some  weighty  word. 

We  opened  ourselves  unreservedly  to  one  another, 
and  I  have  never  experienced  more  decisively  that 
an  unrestrained  intimacy  with  others  favors,  rather 
than  hinders,  a  correct  knowledge  of  ourselves.  As 
Goethe,  Schelling,  and  Tieck  had  won  upon  me 
before,  so  now  did  Schleiermacher.  What  people 
called  Spinozaism  was  just  what  drew  me  most 
strongly  to  him,  because  he  did  not  appear  to  me  to 


138         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

be  cast  in  a  rigid  mould,  but  to  be  the  very  spring 
of  the  most  unconstrained  freedom.  His  Critique 
of  Morals  had  been  published  about  a  year.  It  is 
true,  his  style  was  dialectically  negative,  but  yet 
there  was  plainly  in  the  man  the  reality  of  positive 
and  comprehensive  truth  which  should  lose  all  ne- 
gation in  a  loftier  statement.  It  is  generally  known, 
through  the  agency  of  my  friend  Twesten,  how 
deeply  he  entered  into  my  views  of  natural  science, 
at  least  so  far  as  these*  were  capable  of  being  gener- 
*  alized  into  the  broadest  expression.  We  lived  uni- 
ted by  the  closest  ties ;  we  communicated  to  each 
other  our  views,  our  thoughts,  even  our  fancies. 
Schleiermacher,  as  well  as  myself,  lived  in  Rei- 
ch ardt's  family ;  our  walks,  our  parties  of  pleasure, 
our  associates  were  common ;  our  best  hearers,  those 
who  were  in  earnest,  attended  the  lectures  of  us 
both.  His  ethical  lectures  and  mine  on  philosophy 
appeared  to  our  hearers  to  be  most  intimately  uni- 
ted; they  seemed  to  be  complementary  to  each 
other.  We  also  made  a  mutual  exchange  of  what 
we  knew.  Schleiermacher  listened  to  my  lectures 
on  physics,  and  opened  Greek  philosophy  to  me,  and 
taught  me  to  appreciate  Plato.  It  is,  of  course,  not 
my  object  here,  where  I  am  merely  exhibiting  my 
personal  relations  to  him,  to  decide  the  place  which 
he  is  to  occupy  as  the  one  who  has  opened  a  new 
future  to  theological  inquiries ;  the  knowledge  is 
wanting  to  me  to  do  that,  even  if  this  were  a  suita- 
ble place  for  it.  But  I  can  hardly  realize  vividly 
enough,  nor  paint  forcibly  enough,  what  I  owe  to 
my  intimate  acquaintance  with  him  and  to  his  wri- 


SCHLEIERMACHER.  .  139 

tings,  —  how  deeply  they  have  both  affected  ray 
character. 

The  more  deeply,  earnestly,  religiously  Schleier- 
macher  looked  upon  life  and  science,  the  more 
decided  he  became  in  rejecting,  not  only  in  his 
scientific  lectures,  but  also  in  life,  everything  that 

seemed  to  him  foolish   and  worthless.      He   even 

« 

loved  to  trifle  at  times  with  conventional  forms. 
Many  stories  about  him  were  current  in  the  city, 
and  perhaps  went  further.  People  used  to  talk 
about  the  professor  of  theology  going  out  to  botan- 
ize, in  a  short,  green  jacket,  light  trowsers,  and  a  tin 
box  thrown  over  his  shoulder. 

Schleiermacher  had  not  only  the  post  of  a  profes- 
sor, but  he  was  preacher  to  the  university  also.  An 
old  church  was  fitted  up  for  the  use  of  the  students, 
and  when  the  widowed  queen  died,  it  was  Schleier- 
macher's  duty  to  preach  the  funeral  sermon.  It 
was  in  March.  A  delightful  spring  day  enticed  us 
both,  accompanied  by  a  common  friend,  to  walk  out 
to  Petersberg  on  the  evening  before  the  solemn 
burial  service  should  be  held.  We  spent  the  night 
in  a  hut  in  the  little  village  of  Ostrow.  That  night 
will  never  be  forgotten  by  me.  We  never  drew  so 
near  each  other  as  then.  Schleiermacher  never  dis- 
played himself  to  me  more  exalted  or  more  pure. 
That  nisjht  still  comes  back  to  me  as  one  of  the 
marked  periods  of  my  life,  —  I  might  almost  say  it 
seems  hallowed.  The  day  closed  glorious  and  beau- 
tiful; the  landscape  stretched  away,  made  fair  by  the 
new  activities  of  spring.  The  whole  scene  was  like 
a  vast  natural  temple  ;  the  magnificence  gave  wings 


140  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAItEER. 

to  every  thought,  it  penetrated  us  through  and 
through,  and,  as  the  spring  quickens  the  earth,  so 
did  this  prospect  quicken  our  spirits.  I  have  a  wit- 
ness of  the  deep  impression  which  this  night  made 
upon  Schleiermacher,  in  a  letter  to  his  friend.  Lady 
Herz.  It  was  the  reflection  of  his  own  purity,  in 
which  I  stood,  as  it  were,  ilhimined.  His  deep  spirit- 
uality was  more  apparent  to  me  than  ever  before. 
The  Saviour  was  with  us  then,  as  he  had  promised 
to  be  when  two  or  three  were  gatliered  together  in 
his  name.  It  was  plain  to  me  that  a  positive  reli- 
gious character  has  been  his  from  his  childhood 
among  the  Moravians  up,  and  that  what  he  called 
in  a  technical  way  sensibility,  was,  when  lifted  up 
into  the  Christian  consciousness,  touched  with  the 
eternal  love  of  God ;  and  it  grieved  me  sorely  that 
the  faith  of  so  eminent  a  philosopher  was  so  misun- 
derstood. This  sensibility  of  his  was  what  faith  is 
to  love,  what  thought  is  to  feeling,  the  second  the 
cherishing  guardian  of  the  first. 

It  was  past  midnight,  and  between  nine  and  ten 
o'clock  the  next  day  Schleiermacher  must  be  in  the 
pulpit.  The  subject  must  be  treated  with  a  great 
deal  of  delicacy.  After  a  few  hours'  sleep  we  awoke, 
and  yet  some  eight  miles  to  walk.  During  the  night 
it  had  frozen.  The  warm  days  which  had  gone  be- 
fore had  melted  the  snow,  and  so  the  road,  when 
frozen  again,  was  uneven.  Schleiermacher,  an  ex- 
cellent pedestrian,  kept  ahead  of  us,  and  sped  along 
over  the  roughness.  We  could  scarcely  keep  up. 
We  noticed  how  deeply  sunk  in  thought  he  was, 
despite  the  bad,  walking,  and  we  did  not  disturb 


SCHLEIERMA  CHEB.  141 

him.  When  I  came  home,  I  had  hardly  time  to  put 
myself  in  readiness  before  the  time  for  church  ar- 
rived. When  I  appeared  among  ray  brothers  there 
was  a  general  movement.  "Ah,"  said  they,  "now 
you  have  come,  we  may  hope  at  last  to  see  Schlei- 
ermacher."  His  excursion  of  the  day  before  had 
transpired  and  made  the  round  of  the  citj{,  and  it 
was  even  known  that  we  had  passed  the  night  in  a 
hut.  Early  in  the  morning  they  had  sent  to  his 
lodgings,  and  as  he  had  not  returned  an  hour  before 
the  time  to  commence  the  funeral  service,  and  the 
church  bells  had  all  begun  to  ring,  they  began  to 
think,  and  some,  perhaps,  to  hope,  that  he  would 
not  come.  I  kept  my  peace  and  let  the  professors 
talk. 

Schleiermacher  ascended  to  the*  pulpit.  Every 
one  who  has  heard  him  remembers  the  imposing 
earnestness  of  his  manner  while  officiating  in  the 
sacred  desk.  His  sermon  displayed  that  careful 
arrangement  which  always  was  a  distinguishing 
mark  with  him.  His  very  calmness  and  unimpas- 
sioned  air  made  a  deep  impression,  and  every  one 
left  the  church  with  a  new  conviction  of  the  noth- 
ingness of  all  earthly  relations,  even  the  highest, 
when  brought  into  conflict  with  the  purposes  of  God. 
All  my  brother  professors  applauded  and  wondered 
at  the  discourse.  The  flict  that  he  who  had  pro- 
nounced such  an  elaborate,  clear,  finished,  and  judi- 
cious funeral  oration,  had  passed  the  hours  previous 
in  a  rustic  merry-making,  appeared  to  them  unpar- 
alleled. I  do  not  think  that  the  rumor  of  his  night 
in  the  hut  at  Ostrow  made  any  abiding  impression. 


142  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

How  readily  I  live  those  days  over  again,  and  see 
myself  in  the  scenes  of  my  former  activity.  The 
students  who  attended  Schleiermacher's  lectures 
and  my  own,  or  rather  those  of  them  who  became 
strongly  attached  to  us,  used  to  meet  us  once  a 
week  at  tea,  alternating  between  him  and  me.  The 
conversation  on  such  occasions  was  thorough  and 
deep,  though  unrestrained.  A  circle  was  formed,  of 
which  I  still  think  with  deep  interest.  It  would  not 
be  wrong  for  me  to  say  that  this  circle  embraced  all 
those  men  whose  minds  had  been  roused  to  a  high 
activity  by  Wolf,  Reil,  Schleiermacher,  and,  I  might 
add,  myself  We  did  not  form  what  could  be  called 
a  school  in  any  narrow  sense,  but  an  insight  into  the 
lofty  nature  of  speculative  ideas  gave  interest  to  all 
that  we  did  or  attempted.  Every  one,  theologian, 
physician,  philologist,  strove  to  grasp  life  and  science 
in  its  higher  meaning.  The  professors  were  not  one- 
sided men,  but  they  were  filled  with  the  same  ear- 
'  nestness  which  prevailed  among  the  students.  Our 
opponents  appeared  to  fear  that  an  overstrained 
excitement,  and  an  absence  of  all  careful  and  rigid 
investigation,  characterized  us,  and  repressed  thor- 
ough inquiry  with  us.  This  fear  showed  itself 
wholly  ungrounded.  In  Halle,  all  the  extravagan- 
ces of  a  merely  arbitrary  system  of  physical  science 
disappeared.  Real  investigation,  and  that  we  had, 
won  the  palm,  and  I  cannot  recall  a  single "  student 
of  those  days  who  can  be  reckoned  among  the  mere 
visionaries  of  physics.  There  was  formed  not  only 
a  strong  corps  of  professed  scholars  in  all  depart- 
ments  but  also  trained  practical  men,  who  should 


LIFE  AS  PROFESSOB  AT  HALLE,  143 

be  qualified  for  high  public  posts.  Among  these 
men  were  found  Yarnhagen  von  Ense,  the  diplo- 
matist and  author,  Neander,  the  theologian,  Bekker 
and  Bockh,  the  philologists.  _/ 

The  subjects  on  which  I  lectured  were  natural 
philosophy,  physiology,  mineralogy,  geognosy,  and 
in  the  last  half  year,  being  specially  requested  by  my 
jDupils,  physics  as  an  empirical  science.  These  last 
lectures  demanded  a  considerable  outlay,  although, 
through  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  I  was  provided 
with  an  air-pump  and  an  electrical  machine.  My 
whole  situation  was  more  favorable  than  ever  be- 
fore, although  soon  after  my  arrival  I  saw  that  I 
should  have  to  economize.  I  left  the  roomy  house 
which  my  father-in-law  had  hired  for  me,  and  took 
a  smaller  one.  I  dismissed  my  servant,  and  lived  in 
great  seclusion,  because  all  company  could  be  met  at 
my  father-in-law's,  at  Giebichenstein.  I  lived  wholly 
for  my  studies,  my  lectures,  and  the  students  who 
attached  themselves  to  me. 

Yet  my  relations  to  the  students  were  not  favora- 
ble throughout.  The  mass  of  them  were  unculti- 
vated and  rough,  and  my  antipathy  to  the  wild 
student  life  was  so  strong  that  I  could  hardly  con- 
ceal it.  Once  in  a  while  I  was  saluted  with  a  vivaty 
but  the  pereat  generally  was  my  portion. 

Yet,  however  severely  we  may  judge  the  German 
universities  and  the  students  of  those  days,  it  is 
not  to  be  denied  that  a  good  element  was  there,  a 
sensibility  to  true  science,  always  ready  to  break  out 
of  the  roughest  natures.  Wolf's,  Reil's,  Schleier- 
macher's  and  my  own  students,  formed  a  circle  that 


144         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

knew  how  to  appreciate  worth,  and  had  it  been  al- 
lowed to  Halle  University  to  enjoy  many  more  years 
of  peace,  there  would  have  come  from  its  halls  many 
a  man  ready  to  play  an  important  part  in  the  history 
of  his  times. 

I  was  living  in  perfect  contentment;  the  fairest 
prospects  were  before  me;  my  activities  were  en- 
tirely absorbed,  and  their  circle  was  daily  widening ; 
my  situation,  my  family,  my  friends,  my  auditors,  all 
were  as  I  could  wish ;  and  for  the  first  time  in  my 
life  I  could  feel  free  from  a  weighty  pressure  of  care 
about  my  outward  circumstances.  But  the  soil  out 
of  which  such  promising  fruit  sprung  was  shallow, 
and  I  did  not  know  it.  True,  I  thought  much  of  the 
condition  of  Prussia.  But  I  could  not  see  it  with 
the  eyes  of  one  born  in  the  kingdom.  Yet  the 
future  loomed  up  before  dark  and  threatening,  and 
I  contemplated  it  only  with  foreboding. 

In  January,  1806,  Clara  was  born,  the  only  child 
which  God  gave  to  me.  She  was  sickly,  but  yet  she 
lived  and  thrived.  In  the  spring  of  the  same  year 
I  went  to  Berlin  with  Schleiermacher  and  his  sister. 
The  season  was  charming,  and  Berlin  charged  with 
animation.  Political  affairs  were  then  very  threat- 
ening, and  the  nearer  a  decision  came,  the  more 
clearly  could  it  be  read  that  men  demanded  vigor- 
ous measures. 

Humboldt,  having  returned  from  America  a  year 
before,  was  now  in  Berlin.  Two  houses  of  equal 
size  stood  in  Frederick  Street,  surrounded  with 
trees.  In  one  of  them  lived  Humboldt,  in  the  other 
Johannes  Miiller,  the  historian.    In  the  great  house, 


FICHTE.'' JOHANNES  MULLER,  145 

now  known  as  the  Frederick  William  Institute,  I 
sought  Fichte ;  went  up  one  flight  of  stairs,  met  a 
well-dressed  gentleman,  and  asked  if  Fichte  did  not 
live  there.  "  The  man  is  a  stranger  to  me,"  he  re- 
plied ;  and  I  confess  I  looked  at  him  with  astonish- 
ment. That  Fichte  lived  in  that  house  was  certain, 
and  at  lens^th  I  found  him,  when  I  had  tried  at 
another  staircase.  But  that  any  one  who  lived 
under  the  same  roof  with  the  philosopher  should 
not  know  even  the  name  of  Fichte,  then  in  the 
very  bloom  of  his  reputation,  one  of  the  most  dis- 
tinguished men  in  Germany,  seemed  to  me,  I  con- 
fess, rather  strange ;  it  made  me  feel  that  I  was  in  a 
great  city. 

The  eminent  scholars  of  Berlin  were  the  first 
objects  of  my  inquiries.  I  regarded  it  as  a  specially 
favorable  circumstance  that  I  could  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Johannes  Muller,  the  historian.  I 
was  familiar  with  his  history  of  Switzerland,  and 
had  read  it  with  deep  interest.  The  thoroughness 
of  his  investigations  had  called  forth  my  admira- 
tion, while  the  spirit  which  prevailed  in  his  whole 
method  excited  ray  w^onder.  Musical  composers 
sometimes  complain  of  Goethe's  songs  that  their 
very  excellences  preclude  the  possibility  of  adapt- 
ing them  to  the  most  fitting  music.  The  very 
poetry,  they  say,  contains  too  much  harmony,  and 
fetters  the  freedom  of  the  composer.  So  the  pow- 
erful dramatic  style  of  Muller  seemed  to  preclude  a 
more  artistic  expression,  even  when  he  was  merely 
stating  the  rude  facts  of  history.     In  private  he  was 

10 


146  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

an  instructive  companion,  and  my  acquaintance  with 
him  was  highly  favorable  to  my  own  studies. 

But  the  meeting  with  Alexander  von  Humboldt 
was  the  chief  advantage  of  my  stay  in  Berlin.  I  had 
long  admired  the  extraordinary  talents  of  that  man. 
His  botanical  investigations;  his  geognostical  studies, 
calling  attention  to  the  uniformity  in  the  strata  of 
the  older  mountain  chains  (a  view  which,  although 
partial  when  first  propounded,  must  be,  neverthe- 
less, regarded  as  giving  a  different  aspect  to  the 
modern  science  of  geognosy)  ;  his  extended  wri- 
tings upon  the  irritated  nerves  of  animals,  leading 
directly  to  Volta's  discovery  of  galvanism;  his  eudio- 
metrical  inquiries,  which,  though  leading  to  incor- 
rect results  at  first,  have  yet  added  much  to  our 
knowledge ;  —  all  these  labors,  and  that  unwearied 
mind,  which  easily  solved  the  most  difiicult  prob- 
lems of  his  time,  which  recognized  their  historical 
value,  revealed  to  me  in  him  the  greatest  genius  of 
the  age.  Some  random  expressions  of  younger  nat- 
uralists had  prejudiced  me  against  him.  Whether 
they,  men  not  at  all  eminent,  were  known  to  him,  I 
cannot  say — to  this  hour  I  am  ignorant;  but  as  it  is 
so  much  a  part  of  my  nature  to  admire  in  others 
talents  which  I  do  not  possess,  the  prejudice  that  I 
entertained  against  Humboldt  troubled  me  much. 
Still,  that  soon  passed  away.  I  saw  him  almost  every 
day.  His  conversation  was  in  the  highest  degree 
instructive ;  the  inexhaustible  extent  of  his  obser- 
vations, which,  running  out  into  every  department 
of  science,  comprehended  all  the  features  of  a  prom- 
inent though  comparatively  unknown  and  inacces- 


^  ALEXANDER    VON  HUMBOLDT.  147 

sible  continent,  and  which  seemed  to  impose  the 
necessity  of  studying  the  whole  earth  in  the  same 
close  and  critical  method,  produced  an  overpow- 
ering impression  upon  me.  I  saw  before  me  the 
creator  of  physical  geography,  the  man  who,  in 
combining  and  arranging  the  vast  array  of  facts 
which  his  industry  had  accumulated.  Was  widening 
the  science  which  he  himself  had  called  into  being. 
There  never  has  been  a  scholar  who  has  had  such 
good  reason  to  shrink  back  in  view  of  the  immense 
masses  of  material  which  he  had  to  harmonize  and 
group  as  Humboldt.  Everything  which  he  learned 
was  his  forever,  and  could  be  summoned  from  his 
memory  in  an  instant ;  old  memoranda  and  the  most 
varied  facts  all  were  at  his  immediate  command. 

I  made  my  home  at  the  house  of  my  friend  and 
publisher,  Reimer,  very  far  from  Humboldt's  lodg- 
ings. I  recall  one  occasion  when  Humboldt  and  I 
left  an  evening  party  held  at  some  distance  from 
both  of  our  homes.  He  came  with  me  to  Reimer's 
house  in  Cook  Street  (Kochstrasse) ;  then  I  went 
with  him  to  his  lodgings ;  he  back  again  to  mine ; 
and  thus  a  good  part  of  the  night  was  consumed, 
when  he  implored  me  not  to  go  back  with  him,  as  I 
had  intended  to  do.  If  I  had  had  the  good  fortune 
to  make  this  acquaintance  in  more  settled  times  it 
would  have  ripened  into  a  close  friendship ;  as  it 
was,  it  made  an  epoch  in  my  life. 

The  hospitality  of  the  Berliners  is  noted.  A  man 
in  any  way  distinguished,  who  comes  among  them, 
need  not  want  the  opportunity  to  enter  their  best 
society.     Almost  daily  I  dined  in  tlie  company  of 


148         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER,  ^ 

Humboldt,  Johannes  Miiller,  Fichte,  and  Bartholdy ; 
often,  too,  I  spent  the  evening  in  their  society.  I 
recall  with  the  most  pleasing  recollections  Madame 
Herz,  the  distinguished  friend  of  Schleiermacher,  re- 
markable for  her  spirit,  culture,  imposing  and  almost 
regal  beauty,  and  her  amiability. 

That  Schleiermacher  Avas  seldom  missing  in  these 
social  gatherings,  when  his  duties  and  his  very  ex- 
tended relations  with  society  would  allow,  may  be 
readily  inferred. 

Thus  I  had  no  lack  of  what  might  minister  to  my 
mental  activity;  but  this  was  stimulated  in  yet  new 
and  more  decisive  ways.  The  political  relations  of 
those 'remarkable  times  have  been  so  fully  illustrated 
by  others,  that  what  appeared  to  a  foreign  scholar, 
who  lived  only  for  his  studies  and  troubled  himself 
little  about  politics,  could  only  be  that  which  all 
the  world  knew,  and  therefore  now  of  little  worth. 
But  those  were  really  times  of  immense  importance, 
times  -big  with  great  events  in  store,  the  dawn  of 
kindling  hopes,  which,  though  for  a  little  period  to 
be  obscured,  should  by  and  by  gleam  out  again,  and 
smile  gratefully  down  on  a  disciplined  and  purijSed 
nation. 

In  the  circles  amid  which  I  moved  the  national 
enthusiasm  was  deeply  felt,  and  spoke  itself  out  from 
the  purest  sources.  I,  a  stranger,  and  only  partially 
acquainted  with  the  affairs  of  the  country,  looked 
at  the  future  with  many  fears,  which,  however,  were 
not  shared  by  my  friends.  Whether  Prussia  would 
succeed  in  struggling  through  the  next  few  years 
was  not  clear  to  me,  and  the  present  was  so  full  of 


POLITICAL  ASPECTS.  149 

enjoyment  that  no  very  deep  and  settled  anxieties 
could  take  possession  of  me.  My  hatred  to  France, 
its  government,  and  its  ambitious  project  of  crush- 
ing out  all  German  nationality,  was  great  and  freely 
outspoken.  I  did  not  try  to  conceal  it,  and  disclosed 
it  not  alone  in  my  ordinary  conversation,  but  also 
in  my  public  lectures.  My  effort  was  to  communi- 
cate my  own  feeling  and  to  thus  aid  in  arousing  a 
spirit  of  resistance  to  the  French  invader.  Still  the 
apathy  was  wonderful,  both  among  the  students  at 
Halle,  and  among  my  literary  friends  at  Berlin. 
Thev  would  not  believe  that  there  was  dansrer  till 
it  was  close  upon  them. 

But  the  summer  sped  away  in  Halle,  and  after  a 
time  it  appeared  that  the  very  region  w^hich  was  our 
home  would  be  the  theatre  of  war.  We  had  sup- 
posed that  if  Napoleon  should  attack  Prussia  he 
would  begin  at  the  Rhine,  and  the  people  generally 
supposed  that  even  if  there  were  open  hostiUties 
they  would  not  disturb  the  ordinary  business  of 
life  —  everything  would  go  on  as  usual.  Least  of 
all  could  we  think  that  a  university  would  be  inter- 
fered with  and  its  studies  suspended.  The  number 
of  ray  hearers  had  enlarged.  I  was  lecturing  this 
summer  for  the  first  time  on  experimental  physics. 
Schleiermacher's  pupils  and  my  own  were  closely 
bound  together,  and  it  really  seemed  as  if  the  enthu- 
siasm about  our  instructions,  so  far  from  being  re- 
pressed by  the  warlike  prospects,  was  only  increased 
in  consequence  of  the  more  intense  mental  activity 
of  every  one.  As  the  fall  drew  near,  a  division  of 
the  Prussian  army  was  quartered  at  Halle.     They 


150  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

were  altogether  too  blustering  and  self-confident  for 
my  taste ;  and  the  talk  of  the  officers  was  really  dis- 
gusting. Instead  of  respecting,  not  to  say  fearing, 
that  wonderful  military  genius,  before  whom  all  ob- 
stacles had  been  as  mist  before  the  sun,  they  talked 
lojidly  about  the  Seven  Years'  War,  and  evidently 
thought  that  the  name  of  the  dead  and  immortal 
Frederick  was  to  vanquish  the  living  Napoleon. 

Meanwhile  rumors  came  in  of  the  approach  of  the 
great  enemy,  and  a  stillness,  depressing  our  spirits 
and  increasing  our  anxiety,  rested  upon  all  the  in- 
habitants of  Halle.  It  was  now  plain  that  we  should 
see  fearful  sights  in  a  few  days.  It  was  a  sad  feel- 
ing, that  of  utter  impotence,  which  filled  the  minds 
of  those  who  could  not  bear  arms.  Could  we  but 
take  part  in  our  own  deliverance,  it  would  at  any 
rate  ease  our  minds.  But  this  we  could  not  do ;  we 
were  as  children,  and  our  protection  was  intrusted 
to  these  boastful,  over-confident  soldiers,  who  were 
quartered  in  our  houses. 

Nearer  and  nearer  approached  the  foe,  and  more 
intense  grew  the  feeling  of  the  whole  town.  The 
tidinscs  of  the  reverses  at  Jena  and  at  Anerstadt 
came  in  and  increased  our  fears.  At  length  we 
could  hear  the  distant  cannonade,  and  see  the 
clouds  of  flying  dust.  The  day  of  our  trouble  was 
just  at  hand. 

The  little  house  to  which  I  had  removed  from  the 
larger  one  which  I  had  occupied  before,  was  a  cor- 
ner tenement,  on  the  Parade,  opposite  the  univer- 
sity library.  I  could  look  over  the  old  ruin  of 
Moritzburg  and  the  village  of  Passendorf,  to  the 


EXCITED  FEELING  IN  HALLE.  151 

hills  on  the  south-west,  which  bounded  the  horizon. 
All  summer  long  I  lived  in  daily  expectation  of  an 
attack  on  the  part  of  the  troops  who  were  pressing 
over  those  hills  and  encamping  on  the  plains  at 
their  base.  On  the  morning  of  the  sixteenth  of 
October,  I  believed  that  I  heard  firing  in  the  dis- 
tance. I  hurried  to  the  window,  looked  over  to 
the  level  ground  beyond  the  Long  Bridge  which 
crosses  the  Saale,  and  saw  near  Passendorf  a  con- 
fusion which  convinced  me  that  skirmishing  was 
going  on  there.  The  intense  excitement  in  which 
we  had  passed  the  last  few  days  had,  however,  in- 
duced a  kind  of  quietness,  or  nervous  exhaustion, 
which  was  very  favorable.  My  wife  had  just  weaned 
our  child,  and  had  gained  so  much  in  strength  and 
vigor,  that,  although  the  enemy  were  pressing  on, 
she  seemed  moved  more  by  curiosity  than  fear. 

Very  early  came  Schleiermacher,  accompanied  by 
his  sister,  the  most  intimate  confidant  of  my  wife. 
They  sought  our  house  because  of  the  fine  view 
which  it  commanded.  But  we  very  soon  saw  that 
we  should  improve  our  position  for  observation 
were  we  to  go  to  the  garden  by  the  Freemasons' 
Hall.  So,  mounting  to  a  part  of  the  wall  w^here 
the  descent  to  the  Saale  was  very  steep,  we  could 
overlook  the  whole  scene.  Several  servants  and 
professors  were  standing  there,  and  the  Prussian 
troops  were  rapidly  passing  the  Long  Bridge.  We 
could  see  the  onset,  the  firing  on  both  sides,  the 
plunging  charges  of  the  cavalry,  but  all  seemed  inde- 
cisive to  an  unskilled  observer,  who  could  only  fol- 
low the  separate  movements.     So  strangely  blinded 


152  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

by  Prussian  prestige,  and  so  confident  in  Prussian 
valor,  were  the  most,  that  victory  on  the  French 
side  seeme(^  impossible.  "The  poor  French,"  said 
a  brother  professor  at  my  side,  "I  almost  pity  them; 
they  are  worn  out,  it  is  plain ;  poor  fellows,  a  sad 
fate  awaits  them  falling  into  the  hands  of  our  vic- 
torious soldiers." 

But  this  hallucination  did  not. last  long.  The 
enemy  pressed  on  in  yet  greater  numbers,  while 
our  troops  were  flying  before  them.  Soon  all  were  in 
motion  among  us,  and,  full  of  fear,  every  one  hurried 
to  his  home.  My  house,  situated  in  a  remote  and 
not  much  frequented  part  of  the  city,  was  regarded 
by  us  all  as  unsafe,  and  we  resolved  to  spend  the 
time  of  greatest  danger  in  Schleiermacher's  house, 
in  the  middle  of  the  city.  We  hastened  our  steps 
to  rescue  our  child  from  our  own  home.  We  made 
the  briefest  possible  stay  in  our  house,  but  it  was 
only  too  long.  Mr.  Gass,  the  friend  referred  to 
above,  took  Schleiermacher's  sister  in  charge,  Schlei- 
ermacher  my  wife,  and  I  my  child.  We  had  to 
traverse  the  whole  length  of  Great  Ulrich's  Street. 
We  could  hear  the  shots  in  the  city,  but  in  the 
streets  there  was  perfect  stillness.  No  one  was  to 
be  seen,  the  houses  were  all  locked  ;  in  only  one 
place  did  I  observe  any  one,  and  that  was  a  man 
tearing  down  a  sign  which  would  be  likely  to  draw 
the  enemy  to  his  store.  When  we  came  to  the  well- 
known  turn  in  Great  Ulrich's  Street,  just  before  it 
opens  into  the  Market  Place,  we  saw  at  a  glance 
the  danger  which  confronted  us.  The  flight  of  the 
Prussian  army  was   directly  across  the   city;  the 


ATTACK  ON  HALLE  BY  THE  FRENCH,  153 

whole  Market  Place  was  filled  with  cannon  and 
with,  ammunition  wagons,  and  in  the  streets  which 
led  from  the  Market  Place  down  to  the  river  we 
could  hear  the  incessant  firing.  Our  course  was 
directly  across  this  retreating  mass.  How  we  came 
through  I  cannot  tell.  We  were  so  intent  upon  self- 
preservation  that  we  observed  nothing  else.  Enough 
that  we  stemmed  the  current  safel3^  We  were  near 
the  Merkur  Street,  where  Schleiermacher  lived.  But 
just  as  I  turned  a  coraer  which  would  hide  the 
Market  Place  from  further  view,  I  glanced  a  mo- 
ment at  the  scene  of  rout  which  we  had  just  trav- 
ersed, and  to  my  amazement  it  was  utterly  empty. 
Troops  and  wagons  had  disappeared  as  by  magic. 
By  the  time  we  had  fairly  entered  one  of  the  side 
streets  the  French  came  up.  The  shots  whistled 
through  the  air  close  by  us,  and  Bernadotte's  ad- 
vance guard  rode  by  at  full  speed  along  one  of  the 
great  streets  in  full  view.  They  paid  no  attention 
to  us ;  the  retreating  Prussian  army  was  tlieir  sole 
object  of  pursuit.  We  reached  the  house ;  in  the 
street  all  was  empty  and  still ;  the  door  opened  and 
received  us,  was  closed  and  locked  again,  and  for  a 
little  while  we  were  safe. 

Yet  not  long.  The  street  lay  too  near  to  the 
course  of  the  pursuing  army,  and  parties  of  cavalry 
and  infantry  distributed  themselves  for  purposes  of 
plunder.  This  movement  took  us  all  by  surprise. 
The  street  is  small,  and  we  saw  that  a  party  had 
effected  an  entrance  into  the  house  opposite.  An 
instant  after  three  or  four  thundered  at  our  door. 
They  called  out  to  us  that  they  would  be  satisfied 


154  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

with  a  glass  or  two  of  wine  if  we  would  pass  it  out. 
In  our  folly  we  resolved  to  give  it  to  them,  and,  as 
I  opened  the  window  to  reach  it  to  an  officer,  he 
held  his  pistol  to  my  head  and  threatened  to  blow 
my  brains  out  if  the  door  was  not  opened.  So  we 
had  to  yield,  and  in  a  moment  they  rushed  in.  1 
had  to  give  up  my  watch,  but  happily  I  had  no 
money  with  me.  They  took  Schleiermacher's  linen 
and  his  ready  money,  and  were  in  a  little  while 
off  for  plunder  elsewhere.  Then  we  had  peace,  and 
could  think  a  little. 

It  was  plain  that  city  and  university  were  in  the 
hands  of  the  enemy.  The  whole  course  of  our  life 
would  now  be  changed.  All  that  we  had  resolved 
in  the  past  would  be  of  no  account  in  the  future. 
Still,  the  great  peril  in  which  we  yet  were  pre- 
vented us  from  thinking  of  anything  but  the  duty 
and  care  of  the  present.  The  pursuit  was  over, 
people  began  to  appear  one  by  one  in  the  streets, 
the  enemy  were  no  longer  to  be  seen,  and  I  ven- 
tured in  the  afternoon  to  go  to  my  house  to  dis- 
cover what  had  been  done  there.  I  went  along  the 
streets  near  the  river.  A  few  persons  were  ventur- 
ing out,  but  not  beyond  their  immediate  neighbor- 
hood. Here  and  there  were  small  groups  talking  in 
an  undertone.  Reports  of  dreadful  doings  in  the 
suburbs  got  round,  and  in  the  streets  lay  the  bodies 
of  slain  Prussians,  yet  in  full  uniform.  IsTo  one  had 
entered  my  dwelling.  I  could  now  save  my  money 
and  conceal  my  valuables.  That  night  I  did  not 
spend  with  Schleiermacher,  but  with  another  friend. 
We  were  in  the  full  power  of  the  enemy. 


SEIZURE  OF  HALLE  BY  THE  FRENCH.  155 

The  first  part  of  our  night  was  a  sad  one.  We 
fancied  a  reign  of  horror,  and  saw  in  our  vision  the 
destruction  of  everything  hallowed  by  sacred  asso- 
ciations. The  people  in  the  nearest  neighborhood 
seemed  separated  from  us  by  an  unfathomable  abyss, 
and  rumors  of  unspeakable  cruelties  floated  in  upon 
us  from  hour  to  hour.  We  were  in  momentary  ex- 
pectation that  the  torch  would  be  applied  to  the 
city,  and  that  the  rule  of  license  and  rapine  would 
begin.  But  with  the  advancing  hours  our  fears  left 
us ;  we  became  merry  at  length,  and  at  last  we 
slept. 

The  night  passed  away,  and  we  learned  how 
groundless  our  fears  had  been.  Bernadotte's  troops 
took  possession  of  the  city,  and  it  is  but  simple  jus- 
tice to  record  that  they  were  kept  in  perfect  disci- 
pline. A  proclamation  was  soon  j^ublished  that  the 
studies  of  the  university  would  not  be  interfered 
with,  and  that  no  troops  would  be  quartered  with 
the  professors.  The  treasury  of  the  institution 
would  not  be  touched,  all  excesses  on  the  part  of 
his  troops  would  be  repressed,  and  all  the  rights  of 
the  citizens  would  be  respected.  I  hastened  to  nail 
this  proclamation  to  my  door. 

But  in  a  few  days  we  found  new  cause  for  alarm. 
Troops  were  constantly  passing  through  the  city. 
We  heard  that  Napoleon  would  soon  be  present  in 
person.  It  w;is  said  that  he  was  fired  with  rage  at 
our  university.  In  truth,  we  had  much  to  fear.  The 
students  were  intensely  excited,  and  we  heard  that 
they  were  insisting  upon  the  right  of  the  whole 
sidewalk,  driving  even  the  oflicers  into  the  street, 


156  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

and  they  were  purposing  to  constitute  themselves  a 
body-guard  for  the  protection  of  their  teachers.  I 
went  with  Schleiermacher  to  the  Prorector  Maas,  to 
ask  him  to  summon  a  council  to  decide  upon  suita- 
ble measures  of  action.  But  I  heard  with  amaze- 
ment that  he  regarded  the  step  as  dangerous ;  the 
enemy,  he  thought,  would  consider  us  engaged  in  a 
conspiracy.  Personally,  this  man  was  not  at  all  im- 
posing ;  he  was  slim  and  small,  had  no  servants,  and 
it  was  said  was  compelled  to  clean  the  boots  of  the 
soldiers  who  were  quartered  with  him.  Few  of 
the  professors  ventured  beyond  their  dwellings,  few 
spoke  together  except  in  brief  words,  while  the 
students  paraded  the  streets,  often  shouting  as  they 
went. 

Napoleon  came.  He  took  possession  of  the  house 
of  Professor  Mickel,  one  of  the  most  attractive  in 
the  city,  and  standing  on  Great  Berlin  Square.  His 
guard,  when  drawn  up  in  parade,  made  an  imposing 
appearance.  INTapoleon  inspected  them  personally, 
and  made  a  speech  to  them  in  praise  of  their  con- 
duct during  the  taking  of  the  city.  That  he  was 
full  of  bitterness  against  the  Prussians,  we  knew 
well.  Halle  was  the  first  Prussian  city  which  he 
had  taken,  and  while  his  troops  were  following  the 
enemy,  he  determined  to  rest  in  Halle.  I  was 
still  with  my  family  in  Schleiermacher's  house.  A 
member  of  ISTapoleon's  bureau  of  war  was  quartered 
there,  who  naturally  took  the  best  chambers,  so  that 
Schleiermacher,  with  his  sister  and  his  friend  Gass, 
as  well  as  myself  with  my  wife  and  child,  were  mis- 
erably lodged.     We  did  not  undress  ourselves  for 


NAPOLEON  AT  HALLE.  157 

days.  The  officer  quartered  upon  us  was  polite,  ex- 
cessively so.  He  often  sous^ht  to  draw  us  into  con- 
versation,  but  as  we  were  always  reserved  he  at  last 
had  the  audacity  to  ask  Schleiermacher  to  indite  a 
paper  addressed  to  the  Prussian  court,  which  should 
display  the  great  advantages  which  would  follow 
the  victorious  march  of  Napoleon.  That  Schleier- 
macher should  listen  to  such  a  request  without 
breaking  out  into  ungovernable  rage  surprised  me, 
indeed.  It  may  well  be  thought  that  those  were 
times  of  humiliation.  The  official  remained,  how- 
ever, polite  as  ever.  Once  he  talked  unreservedly 
of  the  unbridled  ambition  of  the  emperor.  It  was, 
he  maintained,  his  object  to  restore  the  old  Roman 
empire  of  the  middle  ages,  and  should  he  succeed 
in  this  he  would  be  able  in  a  short  time  to  advance 
the  welfare  of  the  nations  which  he  should  conquer, 
for  a  lasting  peace  must  ensue.  The  culture  of 
France  would  be  a  universal  bond  of  union,  and 
there  would  be  no  power  which  would  dare  disturb 
the  reign  of  jDcace  that  would  follow.  An  unmeas- 
ured bitterness,  an  almost  irrepressible  hate,  sprung 
up  in  our  hearts  as  we  heard  these  words  in  our 
own  language  from  a  man  of  German  birth.  We 
left  the  house  but  little,  we  shunned,  so  far  as  we 
could,  the  sight  of  our  detested  foes.  Napoleon  re- 
mained, if  I  mistake  not,  three  days  in  Halle.  On 
the  second  day  he  rode  with  his  generals  and  mar- 
shals through  the  street  where  I  was  staying.  The 
official  who  was  quartered  upon  us  urged  us  to  wit- 
ness the  splendid  array.  After  repeated  requests 
Schleiermacher  and   I   cast  a  hasty  glance   down 


158  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

upon  the  street.  This  did  not  enable  us  to  dis- 
criminate the  separate  personages.  I  saw  distinctly 
only  the  fanciful  uniform  of  Murat.  Napoleon  I 
never  saw. 

But  the  more  all  external  help  faded  away  from 
sight,  the  more  threatening  the  appearance  which 
circumstances  assumed,  the  greater  became  my  con- 
fidence, despite  all  probabilities,  that  what  was  truly 
good  in  Germany  could  not  be  suffered  to  perish, 
and  the  surer  mounted  my  conviction  that  He  who 
had  guided  the  course  of  history  would  not  permit 
all  the  precious  results  of  ages  to  be  trodden  out  of 
sight  in  an  instant.  I  ventured  to  speak  out  what 
I  felt,  and  this  conviction  remained  with  me  as  my 
consolation  so  long  as  the  French  possessed  the 
country.  The  conviction  that  I  should  live  to  wit- 
ness Napoleon's  downfall  never  left  me. 

On  one  of  the  days  during  which  Napoleon  re- 
mained at  Halle,  a  student  rushed  into  Schleierma- 
cher's  house  in  the  greatest  excitement  and  alarm. 
My  wife,  who  was  sustained  by  remarkable  courage 
and  heroism,  rallied  him  for  his  fears.  It  was  some 
time  before  he  could  control  himself  enough  to 
speak.  My  wife  still  laughed  at  him  for  a  bold  Ger- 
man youth.  At  last  he  became  composed  enough 
to  inform  us  of  the  cause  of  his  alarm. 

A  deputation  of  three  professors,  of  whom  the 
distinguished  educator  Niemeyer  was  one,  had  been 
selected  to  wait  upon  Napoleon.  While  they  were 
with  the  emperor  a  number  of  the  students  gath- 
ered upon  the  square,  and  when  the  professors  came 
from  the  imperial  presence,  one  of  them  made  a 


NAPOLEON  AT  HALLE.  159 

brief  address  to  the  students,  which  they  loudly  ap- 
plauded. But  to  the  French  the  purport  of  the 
speech  and  occasion  of  applause  were  equally  un- 
known. Added  to  this,  when  Napoleon  was  taking 
his  daily  ride  through  the  streets,  a  number  of  stu- 
dents thronged  around  him  without  giving  any  salu- 
tation. This  uncourteous  way  of  German  hitrsclien 
must  have  been  provoking  to  him,  and  was,  doubt- 
less, considered  intentional.  One  student,  whom 
Napoleon  addressed,  replied  with  a  simple  Monsieur. 
On  this,  people  began  to  fear  that  the  emperor's 
hostility  to  the  university  would  be  made  fully  man- 
ifest. The  report  passed  around  that  a  number  of 
the  students  were  in  arms  against  him ;  but  in  truth 
there  was  no  foundation  for  such  a  rumor.  Two 
young  noblemen,  who,  doubtless,  hesitated  between 
military  service  and  the  continuance  of  their  studies, 
did,  indeed,  join  the  army.  Napoleon  might  reason- 
ably think  that  so  large  a  number  of  young  men 
from  the  best  families  might  be  able  to  stir  up  much 
rebellious  feeling  after  he  had  passed  on.  Unac- 
quainted with  the  methods  of  conducting  German 
universities,  he  supposed  that  the  students  lived  in 
commons,  and  wondered  that  they  were  so  freely 
allowed  to  roam  at  large.  Thus  understanding 
affairs,  he  dismissed  the  university,  and,  ordered  the 
students  to  depart  at  once  to  their  homes.  That 
this  threw  the  students  into  trouble  was  natural ; 
but  what  they  especially  feared,  and  what  had  so 
alanned  the  one  who  fled  to  our  house,  was  the 
thought  that  Napoleon's  plan  was  to  follow  them 
out  upon  the  roads  and  dispatch  them  unarmed. 


160  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

The  whole  of  the  great  house  occupied  in  part  by 
Schleiermacher  was  crowded  with  soldiers.  To- 
wards morning,  during  an  unquiet  sleep,  we  per- 
ceived an  unusual  stir,  a  tramping  on  the  stairs,  loud 
words  of  command  in  the  court,  and  the  tread  of 
horses.  When  we  were  fairly  awake  the  city  was 
empty.  We,  the  teachers,  remained  in  the  deserted 
town,  our  profession  made  worthless,  our  "occupa- 
tion gone."  A  few  of  the  older  students  ventured 
to  remain. 

In  the  city  all  was  apparemtly  peaceful.  The 
council  of  professors  met,  and  we  learned  that  the 
funds  of  the  university  had  not  been  spared.  A 
document  had  anived  from  Dessau  stating  that  we 
were  in  disgrace  with  the  emperor.  Scholars,  it 
stated,  ought  not  to  trouble  themselves  with  poli- 
tics ;  their  business  was  to  cultivate  and  diffuse  the 
sciences ;  the  professors  at  Halle  had  mistaken  their 
calling,  and  the  emperor  had  resolved  to  break  up 
the  university.  That  every  one  was  dismayed,  may 
be  guessed.  The  council  of  professors  was  thrown 
into  trepidation  and  unable  to  act.  I  was.  myself 
filled  with  the  thought  that  so  eminent  a  body  of 
men  ought  in  all  this  time  of  trouble  to  preserve 
unsullied  dignity  of  deportment.  There  were,  of 
course,  some  unworthy  words  put  forth.  It  was 
urged  by  a  few  that  we  try  to  justify  ourselves  with 
Napoleon,  and  convince  him  that  we  never  cher- 
ished hostile  feelings  towards  him.  Such  an  expres- 
sion would  have  been  with  me  a  deliberate  lie.  For 
our  feelings  towards  IsTapoleon,  before  the  capture 
of  the  city,  I  said,  we  have  no  account  to  give.    All 


HALLE  UNIVERSITY  DISBANDED,  161 

that  we  could  plead  was,  that  since  we  came  under 
his  power  we  had  done  what  we  could  to  promote 
a  patient  subjection  on  the  part  of  the  students,  and 
merit  no  reproaches  from  our  conquerors. 

The  position  of  Schleiermacher  and  myself  was 
bad  enough.  Our  salary  was  due  the  first  of  No- 
vember, and  that  which  had  been  received  was 
already  fully  spent.  We  had,  indeed,  received  from 
the  students  themselves  a  large  sum  in  advance  for 
the  lectures  which  were  just  to  commence.  I  had 
in  my  possession  about  four  hundred  dollars.  I  had 
not,  of  course,  expected  to  be  in  any  want  of  money, 
and  was  relying  on  the  usual  receipt  of  my  salary. 
But  with  the  departure  of  the  students  I  was  com- 
pelled to  return  the  money  which  they  had  paid 
me  in  advance  for  my  lectures,  and  it  was  fortunate 
for  me  that  I  had  made  no  encroachment  upon  it. 
After  adjusting  all  my  accounts  I  found  that  I  had 
seven  dollars  left.  Schleiermacher  had  no  more 
than  I.  It  was  impossible  to  receive  any  from  dis- 
tant friends.  An  army  was  between  them  and  us, 
and  all  communication  was  cut  off. 

We  resolved  to  unite  the  little  capital  which  was 
at  our  command,  and  to  keep  house  in  common. 
Schleiermacher  removed  into  my  little  tenement. 
My  wife  and  child  and  Schleiermacher's  sister  occu- 
pied one  small  chamber,  he  and  I  another,  and  we 
all  worked  and  studied  in  one  room.  In  a  corner 
of  that  room  Schleiermacher  v/rote  his  Commentary 
on  the  first  Epistle  of  Paul  to  Timothy.  We  Uved 
most  sparingly,  saw  very  few  visitors,  almost  never 

il 


162         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

left  the  house,  and  when  our  money  was  gone  I  sold 
my  silver. 

Yet,  though  troubled  in  these  ways,  we  had  some 
sources  of  comfort  left  us.  We  had  great  and  un- 
shaken faith  in  the  future,  and  believed  that  wo 
should  live  to  see  the  restoration  of  our  land.  We 
used  soon  to  gather  in  at  our  tea  some  friends  and 
the  few  students  who  had  had  the  courage  to  re- 
main in  Halle.  Fortunately  we  had  laid  in  a  large 
store  of  sugar  and  tea  before  the  enemy  came.  The 
evenings  we  then  spent  together  I  shall  never  forget. 

ISTews  of  all  kinds  poured  in  upon  us.  Napoleon 
was  marching  on  in  conquest,  and  we  were  soon 
horrified  to  learn  that  even  Magdeburg  offered  but 
little  resistance.  In  our  own  place  we  were  often 
amused  to  hear  of  the  extreme  fear  into  which  even 
the  professors  would  sometimes  fall.  Yet  I  confess  it 
was  natural,  and  we,  too,  shared  in  it.  Some  of  the 
captured  powder-wagons  stood  on  the  square  direct- 
ly in  front  of  my  house,  and  a  considerable  amount 
was  scattered  upon  the  ground.  The  foolhardiness 
of  the  French  soldiers  was  amazing.  Their  iron- 
heeled  shoes  would  often  strike  fire  upon  the  pave- 
ment, and  they  carelessly  smoked  as  they  walked 
among  the  powder-wagons.  Remonstrance  with 
them  would  have  done  no  good,  and  we  lived  in 
continual  terror. 

Schleiermacher  and  I  considered  ourselves  for- 
tunate to  secure  passes  which  would  allow  us  to 
travel.  They  were  procured  with  some  difficulty. 
We  had  to  be  measured  like  recruits,  and  wore 
marks  as  suspected ;  but  it  was  a  happy  freedom 


TJVO     YEARS  OF  UNSETTLED  LIFE.  163 

which  would  permit  us  even  this  license  when  we 
might  be  disposed  to  use  it. 

But  let  it  not  be  thought  that  our  studies  did  not 
go  on.  Our  investigations  were  mostly  of  a  specula- 
tive kind.  There  were  times  when  the  condition  of 
the  country  and  our  own  straits  wholly  faded  from 
our  minds.  Of  course  my  relations  with  Schleier- 
macher  became  most  intimate.  At  last  communi- 
cation was  opened  with  Berlin  and  Copenhagen. 
Money  came  in  from  friends  and  publishers,  and  our 
immediate  necessities  were  supplied.  Then  came 
the  task  of  deciding  upon  the  future.  Schleierma- 
cher  resolved  to  remain  in  Halle  yet  a  little  longer, 
because  the  perfect  seclusion  and  the  slight  cost  of 
living  favored  him  in  his  scientific  investigations.  I 
felt  that  I  must  look  elsewhere.  My  Danish  friends 
recommended  me  to  those  in  power  there,  and  I 
was  assured  of  a  competent  support  if  I  should  re- 
turn thither.  Then  came  the  real  difficulty  of  decid- 
ing. I  never  had  felt  so  strongly  bound  to  Prussia 
and  to  my  brother  professors  as  now.  Trouble  had 
drawn  us  together,  and  the  adversities  of  the  land 
had  warmed  my  heart  towards  her.  Had  I  had 
means  I  should  probably  have  remained.  But  I 
was  without  resources,  and  so  was  compelled  to  ac- 
cept the  offer  of  Danish  friends,  and  to  bid  adieu  to 
Halle  and  Schleiermacher. 

My  life  for  the  next  two  years  was  one  of  great 
distress,  of  great  anxieties,  and  of  great  privations. 
I  had  no  income,  and  was  obliged  to  live  upon  the 
hospitalities  of  friends  in  Kiel,  Hamburg,  Copenha- 
gen, and  Lubeck.    I  had,  indeed,  an  offer,  through 


164  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  kindness  of  Count  Schimmelmann,  to  take  an 
office  in  the  finance  department  of  Denmark,  but 
I  could  not  consent  to  give  up  my  profession,  my 
studies,  and  my  hopes  of  usefuhiess  in  science.  So, 
against  the  strongest  protestations  of  my  friends,  I 
refused  the  invitation.  The  whole  future  of  Prussia 
seemed  uncertain,  but  I  could  not  help  thinking  that 
I  should  be  able  before  many  years  to  resume  the 
current  of  my  labors  in  that  coimtry,  and  still  rank 
myself  as  a  citizen  by  adoption.  Meanwhile  my 
circumstances  were  almost  desperate.  Had  I  been 
alone  I  could  have  borne  it  better;  but,  with  a  wife 
and  child  dependent  upon  me,  the  uncertainties  of 
the  future  and  the  needs  of  the  present  made  my 
situation  deplorable.  The  kindness  of  friends  did 
not,  indeed,  allow  us  to  suffer ;  but  the  sense  of  de- 
pendence was  galling  in  the  extreme.  At  last,  how- 
ever, the  joyful  tidings  came  that  the  university  at 
Halle  would  be  reopened.  I  was  then  at  Lubeck. 
It  was  like  passing  from  life  to  death.  It  is  true  I 
was  no  longer  to  be  a  Prussian.  Halle  lay  in  the 
new  kingdom  of  Westphalia,  and  I  should  be  a  sub- 
ject of  the  upstart  King  Jerome.  StiH,  I  should  be 
at  work,  and  that  was  my  consolation.  And  if  I 
had  wished  to  still  be  a  Dane,  and  live  in  my  native 
land,  there  was  no  longer  security  there,  for  Den- 
mark had  at  last  been  drawn  into  the  entanole- 
ments  of  European  politics,  and  was  then  just  on 
the  verge  of  w^ar.  So  we  prepared  to  go  back  to 
the  old  home  at  Halle. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

KETURNS  TO  HALLE  —  DISCOtTRAGINO  REOPENING  OF  THE  ITXl- 
VERSITY  —  PATRIOTISM  OF  THE  PROFESSORS  —  KING  JEROME 
BONAPARTE'S  VISIT  TO  HALLE  —  INTERVIEW  WITH  JOHANNES 
VON  MOLLER  —  SHATTERED  CONDITION  OF  GERMANY  —  GALL, 
THE  FOUNDER  OF  PHRENOLOGY  —  GOETHE  AND  GALL  —  GALL'S 
PHRENOLOGICAL  LECTURE  AT  HALLE  —  SCHELLING  —  ACHIil  VON 
ARNIM  —  WILLIAM  GRIMM,  THE  PHILOLOGIST  —  FOUNDING  OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY  AT  BERLIN  —  STEFFENS'S  VIEWS  OF  NAfURAL 
SCIENCE  —  LAST   TRIALS   AT   HALLE. 

The  feeling  of  pain  with  which  I  always  returned 
to  the  scene  of  my  labors  after  every  long  absence, 
to  seat  myself  again  among  my  books  and  papers, 
came  over  me  with  greater  intenseness  than  ever  as 
I  jom-neyed  back  to  Halle.  It  was  like  going  to 
inspect  the  ruins  of  a  great  conflagration,  and  try 
to  find  some  mementos  of  the  lost  mansion.  And 
what  I  anticipated  I  found.  The  whole  appearance 
of  the  part  of  the  city  where  I  lived  was  changed. 
Schleiermacher  had  remained  some  time  in  my  house 
before  leaving  Halle,  and  finding  everything  in  the 
order  in  which  he  left  it  made  us  feel  his  absence 
deeply.  Wolf  had  left  Halle  and  gone  to  Berlin, 
where  all  things  portended  the  founding  of  a  new 
university.  Prussia,  it  was  seen,  would  take  her 
true  place  sooner  through  her  intellect  than  through 
her  arms.    It  was  plain  that  the  combined  efforts  of 

165 


166  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

William  von  Humboldt,  Niebuhr,  Schleiermacher, 
and  Count  Dohna,  would  make  Berlin  one  of  the 
central  lights  of  science  and  learning. 

The  opening  of  the  university  after  so  long  an 
interruption  was  indeed  discouraging.  There  was 
no  general  rejoicing  over  the  recommencing  of  our 
duties,  and  when  the  lectures  began  there  was  a 
great  difference  discernible  between  the  old  flour- 
ishing times  and  this  new  and  troubled  epoch.  The 
number  of  students  who  had  assembled  was  ex- 
tremely small,  scarcely  three  hundred  in  all,  —  not  a 
quarter  part  of  the  old  number.  All  trace  of  the 
pas*  life  and  activity  in  study  had  vanished,  and  I 
felt  every  day  more  and  more  clearly  that  my  life 
was  running  to  waste.  The  number  of  those  who 
attended  my  lectures  was  at  the  outset  only  six  or 
seven ;  they  could  all  be  assembled  in  my  little 
study  at  home ;  and,  moreover,  it  was  impossible 
for  me  now  to  deal  with  the  speculative  philosophy. 
I  had  no  listeners  at  all  enrolled  for  my  proposed 
course  on  experimental  physics  and  mineralogy,  and 
so  had  the  most  perfect  leisure  for  carrying  on  my 
own  studies.  I  afterwards  learned  what  the  opinion 
of  my  hearers  was  with  regard  to  my  style  of  lec- 
turing in  those  sad  days.  I  had,  they  said,  an  ex- 
traordinary gift  of  persuading,  so  that  while  I  was 
lecturing  I  brought  home  my  special  views  with 
great  power ;  but  the  whole  impression  which  I  pro- 
duced was  like  a  cloud  of  smoke ;  and  if  one  should 
compare  what  he  heard  from  me  with  the  cold, 
clear,  shortly-defined  teachings  of  the  other  profes- 
sors, itline  lost  all  their  force. 


REOPENING   OF  HALLE   UNIVERSITY.  167 

At  the  commencement  of  the  second  half  year 
after  the  reopening,  it  was  resolved  to  commem- 
orate the  event  with  solemn  ceremonies.  It  is  well 
known  that  at  that  time  Halle  had  no  university 
building,  properly  so  called.  A  great,  old  edifice, 
belonging  to  the  city,  with  lofty,  desolate  halls,  con- 
nected by  dark  passageways,  had  been  rented  to 
the  university  for  the  lectures  to  be  given  in.  The 
solemnities,  which  were  to  take  place  in  this  old 
structure,  differed  not  at  all  from  the  customary 
tedious  affairs,  the  staple  of  which  consists  of  long 
Latin  orations.  But  the  rector  perpetuus  of  the 
university,  Niemeyer,  determined  to  give  the  affair 
an  unusual  touch  of  antiquity.  The  parti-colored 
caps  and  gowns  of  deceased  professors  had  been 
kept  with  great  care,  and  we  were  directed  to  ap- 
pear in  the  old  costume.  We  looked,  when  arrayed, 
like  embodied  ghosts  ;  the  whole  affair  made  a  fear- 
ful impression  on  my  mind.  It  seemed  as  if  we  were 
wearing  the  shrouds  of  the  dead. 

It  may,  perhaps,  be  supposed  that  the  patriotism 
of  the  professors  was  extinct ;  such,  however,  was 
by  no  means  the  case.  There  was,  perhaps,  no  city 
in  the  new  kingdom  of  Westphalia  which  was  so 
attached  to  the  old  Prussian  government  as  Halle. 
And  it  may  readily  be  supposed  that  the  defection 
of  the  great  historian,  Johannes  von  Miiller,  justly 
regarded  as  one  of  the  mightiest  minds  of  Germany, 
could  not  be  looked  upon  with  very  favorable  eyes 
by  us.  Miiller  was  now  the  director-in-chief  of  all 
the  universities  of  Westphalia.  Overcome  by  the 
sad  aspect  of  affairs,  he  had  sought  an  interview 


168  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

with  the  Emperor  ITapoleon,  and,  after  taking  a  pro- 
fessorship of  Tubingen,  he  was  called  by  the  new- 
government  to  assume  the  direction  of  all  the  sci- 
entific institutions  of  the  kingdom  of  Westphalia. 
That  his  place,  with  all  the  honor  which  it  conferred, 
must  have  been  beset  with  extreme  annoyances  to 
him,  in  connection  with  his  manner  of  attaining  it, 
may  readily  be  supposed,  and  we  learned,  indeed, 
that  IVIuIler  was  by  no  means  forward  in  doing  all 
that  was  expected  of  him  by  the  government. 

The  new  King  Jerome  resolved  to  honor  the  uni- 
versity of  Halle  with  a  visit.  He  was  accompanied 
by  a  large  number  of  generals  and  courtiers,  and 
among  them  was  Johannes  von  Muller.  I  at  first 
resolved  not  to  appear  with  the  other  professors  at 
the  public  presentation  to  the  king,  but  I  could  not 
resist  the  desire  to  see  the  man  who  had  been  lifted 
by  his  brother  out  of  a  very  ordinary  rank  in  life, 
compelled  to  put  away  his  wife  and  marry  a  prin- 
cess, and  then,  without  any  show  of  personal  merit 
or  power,  become  a  king.  The  whole  corps  of  pro- 
fessors and  of  city  officials  were  assembled  at  Nie- 
meyer's.  The  gateway  through  which  Jerome  must 
pass  as  he  entered  the  city  was  strewn  with  flowers, 
and  beautiful  girls  stood  there  to  welcome  him  with 
songs.  I  confess  all  this  excited  my  indignation. 
For  the  reception  of  a  true  and  beloved  king  this 
would  have  been  all  right;  but  for  an  upstart  —  but 
what  could  we  do  ? 

While  we  stood  crowded  together,  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  the  royal  guest,  our  talk  was  curiously 
varied.     Many  of  the  professors  expressed  them- 


JEROME  BONAPARTE   VISITS  HALLE.  169 

selves  dryly  enough.  I  held  my  peace,  ashamed  of 
being  seen  in  such  a  company  for  such  a  purpose. 
My  bitterness  of  feeling  was  seen,  for  I  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  it.  One  professor,  Riidiger,  an  im- 
mensely tall  and  awkward  man,  who  had  some  little 
wit,  made  us  all  laugh  by  saying  that  the  new  coat- 
of-arms  of  Halle  would  be  exhibited  to-day.  I  knew 
nothing  of  a  new  coat-of-arms  for  Halle,  and  I  asked 
him  what  the  design  was.  "An  ass  treading  on 
roses,"  he  answered. 

The  king  came.  It  was  some  time  before  he  had 
taken  his  place  in  the  audience-room  and  was  ready 
to  receive  us.  In  the  midst  of  his  suite  stood  Je- 
rome, a  truly  unkingly  figure,  an  insignificant  physi- 
ognomy, youthful  features,  his  eyes  dull,  his  bearing 
ungracious.  In  a  brief  speech  he  assured  us  that 
the  interests  of  science  were  dear  to  him,  and  that 
he  should  cherish  the  university. 

One  fisrure  which  I  saw  amono:  the  courtiers  I 
could  not  look  upon  but  with  sorrow;  it  was  Johan- 
nes von  MuUer.  He  was  stoutly  and  broadly  built, 
not  very  easy  in  his  bearing,  indeed,  but  his  features 
were  both  expressive  and  handsome.  I  could  not 
help  seeing  that  he  shrunk  from  my  eye.  Clothed 
in  the  stiff  and  richly-gilded  uniform  of  an  official, 
he  looked  like  a  servant  at  a  hotel,  and  I  only  missed 
the  porter's  staff  to  distinguish  him  from  that  func- 
tionary. 

After  the  audience  was  over  I  called  on  Muller. 
More  than  three  years  had  now  passed  since  I  made 
his  acquaintance  under  very  different  circumstances 
from  the  present,  and  now  we  were  brought  face  to 


170  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

face  again.  Both  of  us  had  been  subject  to  the 
same  hostile  power,  with  no  hope  of  deliverance ; 
in  that  our  fortunes  seemed  to  be  alike  —  alike  in 
boundless  misfortune.  That  that  was  no  real  reason 
for  the  difference  in  our  present  situation  was  per- 
fectly apparent; — that  he  should  be  my  highest  direc- 
tor in  scientific  affairs,  and  that  I  should  be  in  terms 
of  subjection  to  him.  We  talked  on  the  valiant 
deeds  of  the  past  and  the  fears  of  the  present.  All 
hope  had  passed  from  him,  he  had  wholly  given  up, 
and  did  not  conceal  it.  After  I  had  spent  a  half 
hour  with  him  he  sorrowfully  reached  me  his  hand ; 
tears  stood  in  his  eyes.  "You  must  go,"  he  said; 
"too  long  conversation  between  us  will  be  suspi- 
cious." That  was  the  man  who  had  preserved  and 
given  expression  to  the  great  attempts  of  Germany 
in  a  mighty  past !  Such  an  interview  was  to  me 
very  painful.  It  was  hard,  indeed,  to  have  the 
honor  which  I  had  cherished  for  him  now  turned 
into  pity. 

Rarely  broken  in  upon  by  such  occurrences  as 
this,  my  life  ran  on  in  great  quietness.  That  mental 
activity  which  had  pervaded  professors  and  students 
alike  before  the  war  had  almost  entirely  vanished, 
and  I  was  compelled  to  lead  a  hermit's  existence, 
and  live  in  the  communion  of  my  own  thoughts. 
Not  only  was  the  number  of  hearers  much  reduced, 
but  the  exchange  of  writing  and  letters  on  scien- 
tific subjects  almost  ceased.  A  cloud  rested  on  the 
whole  land.  I  had  begun  to  love  Germany,  and  to 
conceive  of  it,  not  as  an  aggregation  of  states,  but  as 
a  unit,  and  I  cared  as  little  to  see  its  soul  robbed  of 


GALL,   THE  FOUNDER   OF  PHRENOLOGY.         171 

its  body,  as  I  did  to  see  a  body  when  deprived  of  its 
soul.  And  when  one  of  my  friends  tried  to  comfort 
me  regarding  the  shattered  condition  of  Germany 
by  saying  that  political  matters  have  no  connection 
with  scientific  matters,  and  that  science  does  not 
depend  upon  the  boundaries  of  nations,  I  only  felt 
how  deeply  and  alone  I  was  sunk  in  my  grief  over 
the  broken  and  distracted  land. 

We  received  a  visit  in  Halle  from  the  then  re- 
nowned phrenologist.  Gall.  He  had  just  been  deliv- 
ering lectures  in  Berlin,  where  he  had  created  a 
great  sensation,  and  had  found  both  defenders  and 
opponents.  Gall  was  a  man  of  singular  character, 
and  his  teachings  on  the  form  of  the  skull  and  the 
influence  which  it  exerts  upon  the  talents,  and,  in- 
deed, the  whole  mental  constitution,  was,  as  is  well 
known,  grounded  on  his  view  of  the  brain  as  a  con- 
tinuance of  the  spinal  marrow,  and  thus  of  great 
scientific  value.  Gall  belonged  to  the  number  of 
those  men  who  believe  they  find  great  certainty  in 
one-sided  observations  and  in  the  combination  of 
their  results.  I  have  scarcely  ever  met  a  man  less 
troubled  with  doubts  of  any  kind  than  he.  He 
seemed  to  have  no  suspicion  of  the  possibility  of 
such  doubts,  and  so  he  proceeded  with  a  confidence 
which  was  wonderful.  Wherever  he  came,  not  only 
that  body  of  men  crowded  around  him,  who,  troubled 
with  problems  which  they  could  not  solve,  sought  an 
easy  solution,  but  also  the  most  distinguished  men. 
It  is  hard  to  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the  sensa- 
tion which  he  produced.  To  have  at  constant  com- 
mand such  a  convenient  and  unerring  test  of  the 


172  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

talents  and  inclinations  of  men  as  the  protuberances 
of  the  skull  furnish,  was,  indeed,  very  attractive. 
Models  of  heads,  numbered  according  to  Gall's  the- 
ory, such  as  those  of  great  and  loved  authors,  began 
to  be  found  in  every  house,  and  even  had  a  place 
on  the  toilet-tables  of  ladies.  Instead  of  reading 
the  works  of  a  writer,  or  of  listening  to  the  melo- 
dies of  a  musical  composer,  in  order  to  judge  of  the 
talents  of  either,  people  were  inclined  to  make  the 
acquaintance  of  candidates  for  popular  honors  in 
order  to  examine  their  heads,  and  decide  from  the 
protuberances  of  the  skull  whether  to  praise  their 
works  or  condemn  them.  The  mothers  felt  of  the 
heads  of  their  children  to  see  whether  a  future  thief 
or  a  murderer  were  among  them.  Happily,  the 
means  of  deciding  were  not  strongly  marked  enough 
for  the  popular  apprehension.  Over  the  organs  of 
murder-loving  and  thievery  the  hand  of  the  mother 
slipped  lightly  and  did  not  discover  them.  On  the 
other  hand,  her  loving  pressure  had  no  difficulty  in 
discerning  the  tokens  of  future  greatness,  and  her 
gentle  fingers  passed  at  once  to  the  eminences  on 
whose  heights  she  espied  the  promise  of  the  coming 
scholar,  artist,  lawgiver,  or  hero.  Now-a-days  we 
find  few  of  the  phrenological  models  which  were 
once  so  much  in  vogue ;  they  must  be  looked  for 
among  the  old-fashioned  and  dusty  furniture  in  our 
garrets.  And  phrenologists  are  no  longer  to  be 
found,  excepting  as  a  kind  of  sect  in  England, 
largely  in  Scotland,  and  scarcely  at  all  in  France. 

Gall  first  made  his  appearance  as  a  lecturer  in  a 
large  hall,  and  surrounded  by  the  skulls  of  men  and 


GOETHE  AKD   GALL   THE  PHRENOLOGIST.        173 

beasts.  Every  word  displayed  his  perfect  confidence 
in  the  truth  of  his, theory,  and  he  expressed  himself 
with  all  the  ease  of  conversation.  The  whole  array 
was  imposing,  and  Ixis  comparing  the  skulls  of  men 
with  those  of  beasts  was  somewhat  novel  and  strik- 
ing. He  compared  the  crania  of  notorious  thieves 
with  those  of  mngpies  and  of  ravens ;  those  of  mur- 
derers with  those  of  tigers  and  lions.  A  glimmering 
of  truth  was  to  be  seen  even  in  his  erroneous  views, 
and  that  which  satisfied  the  superficial  and  light- 
minded  was  just  what  roused  and  disturbed  deeper 
spirits. 

Goethe  came  over  from  Weimar  merely  to  hear 
Gall.  He  had  often,  when  in  Halle,  been  a  hearer 
of  my  lectures,  but  unseen  by  me.  While  I  was  at 
my  desk,  Goethe  would  enter  an  adjoining  room, 
and,  seating  himself  close  by  the  door,  follow  me 
without  my  knowing  it.  I  learned  this  fact  from 
Wolf,  the  great  philologist. 

I  wanted  to  see  Goethe  as  Gall's  hearer.  The 
attitude  and  countenance  of  a  listener  in  a  pub- 
lic assembly  have  always  been  interesting  to  mc. 
Goethe  sat  amid  the  auditory  in  a  truly  imposing 
manner.  Even  his  still  attention  had  something 
commanding  in  it,  and  the  tranquillity  of  his  un- 
changed features  could  not  conceal  the  interest  ho 
felt  in  the  subject  of  the  lecture.  At  his  right  sat 
Wolf,  at  his  left,  Reichardt.  Gall  proceeded  with 
his  exposition  of  the  organs  indicating  various  tal- 
ents, and  in  his  free  way  of  expressing  himself  he 
did  not  hesitate  to  select  examples  among  his  hear- 
ers to  illustrate  his  theory.    He  spoke  first  of  such 


174  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

skulls  as  have  no  specially-marked  protuberances, 
but  which,  developed  on  all  sides  alike,  indicate  a 
perfectly-balanced  character ;  and  a  rich  illustration 
of  this,  he  said,  was  seen  in  the  head  of  the  great 
poet,  who  honored  the  lecture  with  his  presence. 
Everybody  looked  at  Goethe.  He  remained  un- 
moved ;  a  sliglit  expression  of  irritation  struggled 
across  his  countenance,  but  it  at  once  settled  into  a 
slight,  ironical  smile,  which,  however,  did  not  affect 
the  calm  and  imposing  tranquillity  of  his  features. 
He  next  came  to  the  musical  faculty  or  organ  of 
harmony.  Now  it  was  the  turn  of  my  father-in-law. 
The  protuberance  which  indicates  this  organ  lies 
close  by  the  temples.  In  very  truth,  Reichardt  was 
wonderfully  developed  just  at  that  point ;  and  after 
Gall  had  called  attention  to  his  skulls  and  his  copper- 
plates, he  turned  it  to  Reichardt.  Now,  my  father- 
in-law  was  completely  bald,  and  with  his  crown 
covered  with  pomade  and  powder,  it  really  seemed 
like  a  skull  got  ready  for  the  entertainment.  At 
last  he  came  to  Wolf.  The  organ  of  language  lies 
just  above  the  eyes  and  close  by  the  nose,  and  it  is 
a  fact  that  Wolf  was  remarkably  full  just  at  that 
point.  But  Wolf  wore  glasses ;  so,  when  Gall  be- 
gan to  speak  of  the  organ  of  language.  Wolf  knew 
that  he  was  to  be  served  as  Goethe  and  Reichardt 
had  been  before  him.  I  was  convulsed  to  see  the 
veteran  philologian  meet  the  wishes  of  Gall.  He 
quietly  took  off  his  glasses,  turned  his  head  in  all 
directions,  and  looked  very  much  as  though  his 
neck  was  a  pivot  on  which  a  skull  was  turned  by 
an  automaton,  instead  of  being  held  in  the  hand  of 


WILLIAM  QRIUM,   THE  PHILOLOGIST,  175 

the  lecturer.  The  confirmation  which  Gall's  theory- 
received  in  those  three  eminent  men  had  great  in- 
fluence on  all  the  spectators.  But  after  he  had 
gone  I  delivered  a  few  lectures  on  the  subject,  in 
which  I  showed  the  other  sides  which  oppose  Gall's 
theory,  and  which  he  had  passed  over  without  any 
mention.  And,  although  the  feeling  of  conviction 
which  Gall  produced  soon  passed  away,  his  lectures 
had  this  one  good  effect,  that  they  stimulated  my 
friend,  the  great  anatomist  Reil,  to  enter  upon  that 
elaborate  study  of  the  brain  which  has  added  to  his 
fame. 

Among  the  young  men  whose  acquaintance  en- 
riched my  Halle  life,  were  the  two  brothers  Grimm, 
who  were  no  less  remarkable  for  their  sincere,  ear- 
nest, and  disciplined  character,  than  they  were  for 
their  persistent  devotion  to  study.  William  Grimm 
had  long  been  employing  himself  in  Cassel  with 
translating  old  Danish  poems.  A  trouble  with  the 
heart  had  brought  him  to  Halle  to  consult  Reil.  He 
had  a  room  in  the  same  house  in  which  I  had  a  ten- 
ement, and  for  a  year  I  saw  him  almost  daily.  He 
was  then  at  work  on  Danish  songs,  and  it  was  al- 
ways a  pleasure  to  me  when  I  could  be  of  any  help 
to  him.  His  employment  had  in  it  something  very 
attractive  to  me,  and  it  was  delightful  to  get  glimp- 
ses into  a  study  so  far  removed  from  my  own,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  become  acquainted  with  a  man  of 
so  thorough  scholarship  and  so  kindly  ways.  Bren- 
tano  was  in  Halle  at  the  same  time  with  Grimm, 
and  of  course  the  older  German  poetry  was  largely 
talked  over  among  us. 


176  THE  STORY  OF  Myt  CAREER. 

Otherwise  my  life  in  Halle  was  now  very  soli- 
tary. I  lived,  indeed,  in  the  closest  intimacy  with 
my  friend  Blanc,  and  through  his  means  became 
well  acquainted  with  Rienaacker,  a  somewhat  dis- 
tinguished preacher  of  the  Calvinistic  or  reformed 
church.  Thus  I  was  drawn  during  my  stay  in  Halle 
entirely  to  the  Calvinists,  and  was  completely  cut 
off  from  near  relations  with  the  Lutherans,  the 
prevailing  party  there.  Although  Christianity  was 
always  growing  more  and  more  weighty  in  my 
eyes,  yet  I  cared  little  for  those  differences  which 
merely  spring  from  clashing  dogmas.  I  partook  of 
the  Lord's  Supper  in  the  Calvinistic  church,  and 
enjoyed  it,  interpreting  it  to  myself  after  my  own 
way.  I  mention  these  things  because  this  indiffer- 
ence to  matters  of  theology  was  one  step,  and  a 
necessary  one,  in  the  development  of  my  mind. 
The  recollections  of  youth  and  childhood  had  then 
a  secret  power  over  me  ;  there  passed  over  my  soul 
a  certain  real  though  transitory  unrest  which  would 
not  be  stilled,  for  I  could  not  help  remembering  that 
there  lived  in  Lutheran  Denmark  friends  and  rela- 
tives of  mine,  and  in  the  best  informed  classes  too, 
who  would  have  been  scarcely  more  shocked  to 
learn  that  I  had  become  a  Catholic,  than  that  I  had 
partaken  the  Lord's  Supper  in  a  Calvinistic  church. 

I  must  here  speak  of  Schelling,  and  the  manner  in 
which  he  first  attracted  the  attention  of  the  general 
public, — a  task  not  always  accomplished  by  a  philos- 
opher. The  larger  the  number  of  his  followers  be- 
came, the  more  apparent  became  his  efforts  to  lay  a 
deeper  foundation  for  metaphysical  speculation  than 


SCRELLINQ.  177 

had  evei'*been  done.  He  is  distinguished  from  al- 
most all  other  philosophers,  I  may  say,  in  this,  that 
when  he  had  proclaimed  his  profoundest  results,  and 
had  exercised  an  influence  upon  his  age  which  never 
could  perish,  he  did  not  publish  a  system,  complete 
in  itself,  and  Avhich  should  remain  in  the  fixed  form 
that  its  author  should  give  it  through  all  time ;  a 
system  like  those  which  are  educed  by  some  in 
studying  the  philosophy  of  history,  who  find  that 
their  work  when  concluded  is  already  on  the  way  to 
ruin.  Schelling  was  in  the  truest  sense  a  philoso- 
pher, just  for  this  reason,  that  while  following  the 
trains  of  his  own  thought,  and  battling  with  adver- 
saries on  all  sides,  he  had  his  hardest  contest  with 
his  own  self.  The  treatise  on  the  nature  of  Human 
Freedom,  which  appeared  in  1809,  must  have  sur- 
prised those  who  had  sujoposed  that  the  logical 
formularies  on  which  philosophy  had  hitherto  rested 
were  to  be  its  eternal  foundations.  To  me  this 
treatise  seemed  all  the  more  weighty,  and  drew  me 
nearer  to  Schelling,  because  his  view  of  history,  as 
embracinsT  the  connection  of  man  with  his  surround- 
ings,  had  seemed  to  me  the  sublimest  theme  that 
speculation  could  reach.  That  this  conception  lay 
at  the  basis  of  my  first  production,  Frederick  Schle- 
gel  had  shown  shortly  before  the  appearance  of 
Schelling's  treatise.  That  the  relation  of  man  with 
his  surroundincrs  must  be  an  intimate  one,  must  have 
been  clear  to  one  who  looked  at  the  world  with  the 
comprehensive  view  which  I  took,  and  who  had 
studied,  as  I  had  done,  the  whole  course  of  histori- 
cal development.    And  so,  when  SchelHng's  treatise 

12 


178  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

appeared,  I  felt  that  I  had  found  a  greats  ally,  and 
that  the  idea  which  had  become  so  precious  to  mo 
would  now  become  speedily  adopted  by  all,  and 
give  a  new  impetus  to  the  whole  study  of  man. 

Among  the  friends  whom  I  gained  about  this  time 
was  Achim  von  Arnim,  who,  before  the  war  and 
in  the  fairest  time  of  my  life,  made  a  long  tarry  at 
Giebichenstein,  and  lived  in  the  closest  intimacy 
with  Reichardt  and  his  family.  He  had  a  noble 
and  truly  marked  figure  ;  he  spoke  little,  always  ap- 
peared quiet,  even  reserved,  and  yet  his  mildness  was 
so  attractive  as  to  draw  forth  universal  confidence. 
He  had  at  first  devoted  himself  passionately  to  the 
study  of  physics,  and  in  Gilbert's  Annals  are  some 
treatises  by  him  which  called  forth  much  attention. 
When  I  knew  him  he  had  wholly  given  up  these 
studies,  but  he  took  some  interest  in  new  discov- 
eries.   He  had  become  wholly  a  poet. 

In  poetical  literature  there  was  a  general  charac- 
ter widely  difierent  from  that  which  prevailed  in 
philosophical  literature.  In  the  latter  it  could  not 
be  denied  that  Kant  had  laid  the  foundation  of  a 
new  school ;  that  the  discovery  that  all  visible  ob- 
jects move  according  to  established  laws  around  the 
unchanging  sun  of  the  consciousness,  was  to  phi- 
losophy what  the  theory  of  Copernicus  was  to  as- 
tronomy. Still,  Kant  was  crowded  out  of  sight  by 
later  men,  and  the  Kantians,  as  they  called  them- 
selves, played  a  subordinate  part  in  the  subsequent 
developments  of  philosophy.  It  was  necessarily  so ; 
for,  although  Kant's  system  did  not  cease  to  be  the 


FOUNDING   OF  UNIVERSITY  OF  BERLIN.         179 

basis  for  those  which  came  after,  yet  it  seemed  fixed 
and  ill-adapted  to  the  widening  wants  of  men. 

In  poetry  it  was  different.  That  Goethe  had 
inaugurated  a  new  epoch,  was  generally  confessed ; 
the  opposition,  which  wanted  to  adhere  to  the 
contracted  views  of  the  past,  was  put  down  by 
the  Schlegels  and  Tieck,  and  regarded  as  of  lit- 
tle authority.  All  young  poets  crowded  around 
Goethe ;  and  as  it  was  a  necessity  of  the  times  for 
those  who  would  be  philosophers  to  praise  Kant, 
so  was  it  of  those  who  would  be  poets  to  extol 
Goethe.  There  was  thus  formed  a  kind  of  genius- 
worship  which  assumed  for  itself  a  narrow  exclusive- 
ness,  and  which  succeeded  in  laying  the  foundation 
for  that  unshaken  European  celebrity  which  Goethe's 
mighty  spirit  had  accorded  to  it  with  wonderful 
unanimity  in  a  time  when  no  talents,  however  splen- 
did, seemed  likely  to  receive  any  recognition. 

The  founding  of  the  university  of  Berlin  is  in 
point  of  fact  one  of  the  most  important  movements 
in  the  history  of  modern  Germany.  If  we  compare 
the  magnitude  of  the  work  with  the  original  in- 
tention of  government  concerning  it,  we  must  lie 
amazed.  The  government  would  have  regarded 
Halle  as  a  favorable  model  to  follow,  and  to  attain 
to  the  liberal  endowment  of  Halle  would  have  been 
viewed  as  all  that  the  public  needs  demanded.  It 
would  have  rejected  at  once  the  thought  of  endow- 
ing a  university  adequate  to  meet  the  wants  of  the 
age.  And  yet,  just  at  the  time  when  the  country 
seemed  half  ruined,  when  all  resources  seemed  cut 
off,  when  one   of  the  richest  provinces  was  in  the 


180  THE  STORY   OF  MY  CAREER, 

hands  of  the  enemy,  and  a  sorrowful  future  seemed 
to  await  the  whole  land,  an  effort  was  put  forth 
which,  even  after  ten  years  of  perfect  peace,  would 
have  seemed  incredible.  And  how  was  the  grand 
j'esult  brouojht  about  ?  Bv  the  conviction  that  Prus- 
sia  was  called  in  this  time  of  her  humiliation  to  es- 
tablish a  central  point  of  influence  which  should 
be  felt  through  all  departments  of  life  and  service 
throughout  Germany. 

In  fact  the  tone  of  feeling  in  Berlin  during  this 
sad  time  was  wonderful.  The  capital  was  occupied 
by  hostile  troops,  the  king  held  himself  near  the 
Russian  frontier,  and  yet,  while  the  city  and  the 
land  were  outwardly  conquered,  only  a  fragment  of 
the  people  felt  subdued  in  spirit.  The  enemy  had 
taken  the  fortresses,  routed  the  army,  and  made  us 
almost  weaponless ;  but  there  were  forces  rallying, 
unseen  by  our  foes,  which  would  take  the  place 
of  those  we  had  lost,  and  there  were  victories 
daily  gained  which  were  never  publicly  recorded. 
Our  victors  could  not  see  whither  the  currents  were 
tending.  Men  like  Schleiermacher,  who  could  dis- 
cern the  spirit  of  the  times,  were  joined  in  close 
alliance,  and  the  whole  temper  of  the  country  was 
roused.  Never  before  were  king  and  people  in  such 
intimate  sympathy.  The  army  itself  eagerly  looked 
forward  to  the  time  when  it  should  retrieve  its  dis- 
grace. When  the  war  began  every  one  was  taken 
by  surprise,  the  army  was  made  powerless  by  the 
sudden  attack,  the  fortresses  opened  their  gates  be- 
fore they  were  fairly  invested ;  but  now  on  the 
distant  eastern  frontier  the  surprise  was  past,  the 


THE  GERMAN  CHARACTER,  181 

courage  of  the  army  revived,  and  the  bravery  dis- 
played at  Dantzig  and  Grandenz  ought  to  have 
taught  the  enemy  that  the  old  German  spirit  had  re- 
turned. From  this  time  every  Prussian  felt  inwardly 
strong. 

At  that  critical  epoch  Fichte  stepped  forward, 
and  with  wonderful  courage  uttered  words  of  free- 
dom under  the  very  eyes  of  our  victors.  Schleier- 
macher,  too,  gave  strength  to  the  growing  German 
feeling,  and  added  the  sanctions  of  religion  to  the 
struggle  for  hearth  and  altar.  Both  of  these  men 
spoke  to  the  heart  of  the  nation.  It  will  always  be 
hard  to  gain  Germans  over  to  any  superficial  scheme 
which  looks  only  to  the  present  hour.  The  French 
are  different.  TJie  Frenchman  undertakes  the  work 
of  the  hour  without  any  harassing  doubts.  He  has 
no  concern  with  past  or  future ;  all  that  he  has  to 
do  with  is  the  work  just  before  him.  For  the  ac- 
complishment of  that,  everything  is  laid  under  con- 
tribution. The  German  cannot  look  at  things  in 
this  way ;  many  a  doubt  perplexes  him,  and  the 
favorable  moment  is  past  before  he  is  ready  to  act. 
His  whole  life  is  penetrated  with  speculation,  reach- 
ing out  backwards  and  forwards,  and  uniting  all 
circumstances  in  a  chain  of  cause  and  effect.  Every 
deed  is  in  itself  but  a  link  in  this  chain.  The  little 
facts  of  daily  life  do  not  absorb  him ;  he  glances 
at  them  and  lets  them  fly.  And  yet  his  spirit  is 
always  active ;  events  are  woven  together  and  their 
issues  upon  ages  to  come  are  made  apparent.  So 
Germany  was  called  upon  to  lead  in  the  Reforma- 
tion, and  so  this  war  of  freedom  from  the  French 


182         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

yoke  was  made  by  far-reaching  German  minds  the 
means  of  giving  our  nation  a  character  which  will 
unfold  itself  for  generations  to  come. 

All  hope  resting  upon  Prussian  prowess  had  dis- 
appeared. Every  one  looked  with  confidence  to  the 
founding  of  the  new  imiversity  at  Berlin.  That  city 
had  before  been  by  no  means  a  central  light  in  liter- 
ature and  science.  The  French  superficiality  intro- 
duced by  Voltaire  had  first  got  possession,  and  this 
was  at  last  driven  out  by  the  genuine  Germaiv  feel- 
ing pervading  even  the  uneducated  classes.  Still,  a 
kind  of  half-German,  half-French  Academy  existed 
there,  conferring  little  credit  upon  the  city,  and 
unable  to  efiect  any  perfect  result.  And  yet  this 
city,  little  thought  of  by  Germans,  possessed  by  ene- 
mies, —  this  wasted  city  was  suddenly  to  be  trans- 
formed into  the  centre  of  the  brightest  hopes  for 
Germany. 

The  founding  of  the  university  was  a  grand  event. 
The  most  varied  voices  were  heard  in  consultation 
about  it,  and  William  von  Humboldt  conducted  all 
the  plans.  The  counsels  of  such  men  as  Wolf, 
Schleiermacher,  and  Reil,  were  much  valued.  All 
the  arrangements  were  planned  upon  the  most  lib- 
eral scale ;  the  most  eminent  scholars  were  invited 
to  its  chairs,  and  invitations  thither  were  eagerly 
sought.  Only  in  relation  to  speculative  philosophy 
were  there  serious  doubts.  At  the  outset  it  was 
the  deliberate  purpose  to  establish  a  philosophical 
chaos;  a  great  contrast  with  what  was  afterwards 
determined  by  the  authorities.  The  value  of  specu- 
lation in  its  relation  to  German  culture  was  granted, 


STEFFENS'8  NATURAL  SCIENCE.  183 

but  not  openly  confessed.  Natural  history  seemed 
to  be  a  department  which  would  be  particularly 
neglected.  There  seemed  to  be  a  great  inclination 
to  adopt  the  atomic  theory  as  the  basis  of  research 
in  philosophical  inquiries,  merely  because  it  had  met 
with  great  favor  in  England  and  France.  There 
was  a  strong  inclination  to  accept  Kant's  views, 
and  to  adapt  them  to  an  empirical  construction  of 
natural  sciences.  William  von  Humboldt  thought, 
however,  that  no  philosophical  system  existed  which 
demanded  recognition.  With  regard  to  men,  his 
view  was  that  it  was  best  for  youth  of  promise  to 
pass  through  the  rank  of  tutor  (jyrivat  docent)^  and 
rise  to  eminence  as  they  should  merit  it.  One  pro- 
fessor of  philosophy  would  certainly  be  needed,  and 
for  that  post  Fichte  was  already  in  Berlin ;  and,  was 
another  needed,  Schleiermacher,  besides  being  a 
theologian,  was  very  deeply  read  in  philosophy.         _^ 

I  will  not  deny  that  I  cherished  very  ardent  hopes 
of  being  transferred  to  Berlin.  I  saw  myself  situa- 
ted in  a  field  from  which  selections  would  most 
probably  be  made,  and  it  was  a  long  time  before  I 
surrendered  my  hopes.  I  did  not  fully  realize  what 
stood  in  my  way.  The  serious  view  which  I  took 
of  natural  science  as  a  unit,  independent  and  com- 
prehensive, the  foundation  of  a  thorough  insight 
into  nature,  was  regarded  as  mere  folly.  This  was 
the  most  cherished  thought  of  my  life,  yet  I  found 
myself  standing  alone  in  it ;  they  who  were  called 
philosophers  lived  in  abstractions  wholly  sundered 
from  nature ;  while  naturalists  went  to  the  opposite 
extreme  of  rejecting  everything  which  could  not  be 


184         THE  STORY  OF  MT  CAREER. 

brought  under  the  cognizance  of  the  senses.  But  in 
my  view  nature  does  not  admit  of  that  dialectical 
play  wliich  has  within  late  years  found  such  sport 
in  liistorical  studies.  I  believe  that  natural  science 
has  in  every  age  had  some  special  idea  within  itself, 
growing  out  of  the  exigencies  of  the  times.  As  men 
knew  more  of  nature,  natural  science  went  on  ex- 
panding and  gaining  a  comprehensiveness,  linking 
several  branches  together,  and  showing  the  law  of 
unity  within  them  all.  And  I  am  fully  persuaded 
that  a  sound  system  of  natural  science  w^ill  be  the 
basis  of  all  knowledge ;  but  its  development  is  the 
work  of  time,  not  of  any  one  man.  In  this  convic- 
tion I  stand  almost  alone  to-day,  as  I  stood  almost 
alone  then. 

The  struggle  which  I  had  to  meet  was,  how  ever,  no 
open  one,  in  which  I  might,  perhaps,  win  some  honor. 
It  was  hidden  from  public  view,  and  I  was  power- 
less. Schleiermacher,  who  had  great  influence  in  the 
aflairs  of  the  Berlin  university,  wrote  to  me  often. 
My  call  thither  seemed  sometimes  just  at  hand. 
Suddenly  everything  changed.  I  was  charged  w^ith 
forging  my  facts,  and  with  so  misstating  them  as 
to  lead  my  hearers  into  error.  I  answered  these 
charges  through  the  agency  of  a  friend  by  saying 
that  attacks  of  this  kind  had  no  value  unless  they 
were  open ;  and  it^  being  openly  assailed,  I  should 
be  found  guilty,  I  entreated  not  to  be  spared.  I 
stated  that  my  published  works  had  been  for  years 
before  the  world  without  being  attacked  by  any 
naturalist.  I  admitted  that  the  j)hilosophy  of  na- 
ture regarded  facts  from  a  different  stand-point  from 


STEFFENS'S  NA  TUBAL  SCIENCE.  185 

the  science  of  natural  history.  The  founding  of 
that  philosojDhy  as  a  province  of  thought  must  be 
the  work  of  time.  What  seemed  to  be  a  perversion 
of  facts  was  only  the  result  of  taking  a  stand-point 
of  observation  different  from  theirs.  And  even  if 
there  should  be  an  effort  put  forth  to  nip  in  the  bud 
the  science  of  nature  which  I  was  seeking  to  estab- 
lish, yet  its  influence  would  not  be  lost ;  it  had 
already  gained  ground  enough  to  maintain  and  per- 
petuate itself  And  of  this  science  as  I  compre- 
hended it,  I  could  say  in  the  words  of  Gamaliel, 
"If  this  be  of  God  it  will  endure;  if  not,  it  will  not 
be  able  to  stand."  I  felt  in  my  heart  persuaded  that 
natural  science  had  reached  a  point  where  its  com- 
prehensive character  would  be  seen,  that  it  was  the 
true  development  of  our  age.  I  called  attention  to 
the  fact  that  the  naturalists  of  Berlin  formed  already 
quite  a  school,  and  that  their  names  might  be  joined 
with  the  savans  of  London  and  Paris.  My  own 
work,  I  stated,  would  be  to  forego  any  mere  empiri- 
cism, any  claims  to  great  discoveries,  and  all  re- 
searches which  demanded  exceedingly  protracted 
investigations.  I  would  still  remain  an  humble 
learner  in  this  field,  and  only  make  use  of  those 
facts  whose  existence  should  be  confessed  by  all. 

But  all  these  statements  and  explanations  proved 
unavailing.  The  general  distrust  in  my  scientific 
accuracy  was  too  deeply  seated  to  be  moved. 

But  this  was  not  all.  A  man  whose  name  was 
commonly  regarded  as  a  pillar  in  science,  although 
among  naturalists  his  claims  were  seriously  doubted, 
was  pointed  out  as  my  opponent.    In  a  letter  from 


186         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Schleiermacher,  I  read,  "  You  are,  as  I  hear,  openly 
attacked  by  Goethe.  You  must  be  roused  up  to 
meet  him  as  openly.  However  much  you  owe  to 
him,  however  much  you  honor  him,  you  must  not 
spare  him."  The  positiveness  with  which  Schleier- 
macher wrote  surprised  me.  I  had  just  received  a 
friendly  letter  from  Goethe,  and  in  the  second  vol- 
ume of  his  work  on  Light  he  had  spoken  with  favor 
of  me. 

The  death  of  my  children,  the  growing  pecuniary 
embarrassments  which  oppressed  me,  my  constrained 
position  as  a  teacher,  tended  constantly  to  dampen 
what  hope  still  remained  to  me.  Danger  of  every 
kind  seemed  to  surround  me.  Professor  Sternberg, 
of  Marburg,  was  shot,  and  I  might  be  made  in  like 
way  a  victim  to  the  machinations  of  my  enemies. 
Just  then,  too,  Reil  went  to  Berlin,  and  with  him 
vanished  my  last  prop.  ^N'othing  seemed  to  remain 
for  me  at  Halle. 

I  then  made  a  visit  to  Berlin.  Reil  and  Schleierr 
macher  joined  in  my  behalf,  and  asserted  that  they 
could  not  spare  me ;  that  my  views  of  nature  must 
be  the  basis  of  all  their  teachings.  But  even  this 
decisive  step  was  unavailing.  They  then  privately 
stepped  in  to  remove  the  pecuniary  embarrassments 
which  stood  in  my  way.  They  promised  to  support 
me  out  of  their  own  income  till  my  efforts  should 
induce  the  conviction  that  their  services  would  be 
unnecessary.  Still,  the  enmity  of  my  opponents  was 
too  formidable,  and  nothing  could  be  done  in  my 
behalf.  Yet  the  zealous  friendship  of  these  two 
men  was  very  cheering  to  me,  —  one  of  them  the 


FRIENDS  IN  ADVERSITY.  187 

most  subtle  of  dialecticians,  the  other  the  most 
patient  and  thorough  of  naturalists,  —  and  I  gained 
a  confidence  for  the  future  which  was  of  great  ser- 
vice in  those  times  of  trouble.  How  could  I 
despair  when  two  such  men  stood  up  to  sustain 
and  help  me  ? 


CHAPTER    YIII. 

CALL  TO  BRESLAU  — TRIP  TO  JENA  AND  BERLIN  —  NAPOLEON'S 
RECEPTION  AT  WEIMAR  — GOETHE  — DINNER  AT  GOETHE'S  — HI3 
ONSLAUGHT  AT  DINNER  —  SCHLEIERMACHER  AS  PROFESSOR  AT 
BERLIN  —  THE  FACULTY  AT  BERLIN  —  BOECKH,  BEKKER,  NIE- 
BUHR  —  GATHERINGS  OF  BERLIN  SAVANS  —  ARRIVAL  AT  BRES- 
LAU —  STEFFENS'S  LOVE  OF  GERMANY  —  COMMENCEMENT  OF 
PROFESSORSHIP    AT    BRESLAU. 

And  here  commenced  a  new  epoch  in  my  life. 
Von  Schuckraann,  the  minister  of  state,  who  con- 
trolled the  affairs  of  all  the  Prussian  universities 
after  Count  Dohna  withdrew  from  that  post,  deter- 
mined to  revive  the  languishing  university  at  Frank- 
fort on  the  Oder,  to  transfer  it  to  Breslau,  and  to 
join  it  with  the  Theological  Seminary  in  that  city. 
Silesia,  the  richest  province  in  the  kingdom,  with  a 
million  and  a  half  of  inhabitants,  was  without  a  uni- 
versity, and  there  was  evidently  no  need  for  one  at 
Breslau  in  addition  to  that  at  Frankfort.  Schuck- 
manik's  design  was  to  transfer  the  Frankfort  stu- 
dents to  Breslau,  as  a  nucleus,  to  give  the  older 
professors  an  emeritus  rank,  to  retain  the  younger, 
and  to  call  able  men  from  abroad.  The  university 
of  Frankfort,  being  old,  was  rich ;  and  its  funds 
would  be  very  serviceable  in  commencing  at  Breslau 
on  the  scale  which  he  wished.  Bredow  undertook 
the  duty  of  carrying  out  the  details  of  the  plan,  and 

188 


CALL    TO  BRESLAU.  189 

worked  with  great  zeal.  He  came  to  Halle  evi- 
dently with  the  design  of  secnring  able  men  for  the 
professorial  chair.  I  was  then  lecturing  on  physics, 
and  was  engaged  chiefly  in  galvanic  experiments. 
Bredow  attended  one  of  my  lectm-es,  and  then  invit- 
ed me  to  his  room  and  asked  me  if  I  should  like  to 
be  called  to  Breslau.  The  reader  can  conceive  my 
joy.  A  quite  attractive  salary  Avas  proposed ;  the 
thing  was  soon  settled,  and  in  a  few  weeks  I  received 
my  formal  call. 

But  before  I  could  enter  upon  my  new  and  iso- 
lated life  at  Breslau,  and  tear  myself  from  a  home 
which  had  become  very  dear  to  me,  I  could  not  re- 
sist the  desire  to  visit  my  old  friends  at  Jena,  and 
especially  Goethe,  who,  although  not  very  aged,  was 
now  about  sixty.  Two  years  before,  in  the  winter  of 
1809,  I  had  with  my  family  visited  Fromann,  who 
seemed  one  of  the  nearest  friends  I  had  at  Jena. 
He  and  his  wife  had  received  us  with  a  most  cordial 
welcome.  We  spent  the  last  days  of  the  year  at 
his  house ;  and  the  few  weeks  which  I  spent  there  I 
shall  not  forget.  Never  did  I  feel  more  clearly  how 
tragic  an  element  had  been  in  my  life.  It  was  in  a 
great  measure  through  the  cheerful  and  social  influ- 
ence of  Fromann's  family  that  my  youth  had  been 
so  indescribably  rich  in  Jena,  and  his  house  had 
been  the  gathering-place  where  the  great  lights  of 
the  town  had  gathered  themselves  together.  Here 
appeared  Goethe ;  here  I  saw  the  Schlegels,  Tieck, 
and  Schelling.  It  seemed  to  be  the  field  qp  which 
these  knightly  spirits  had  celebrated  their  spiritual 
tournaments,  and   had  carried  off  their  victorious 


190         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

palms.  The  dawn  of  the  new  century,  announcing 
a  new  era  for  science,  here  began  to  gleam;  but  that 
day  of  promise  had  passed  without  its  fulfilment. 
Political  changes  had  disturbed  old  friendships,  and 
with  the  loss  of  our  old  national  feeling  of  unity, 
those  knightly  contests  had  all  ended.  And  when 
I  came  again  to  Jena,  and  found  myself  surrounded 
by  all  that  was  left  from  those  fair  days,  it  was  nat- 
ural that  I  should  give  free  expression  to  my  feel- 
ings. In  Halle,  where  I  lived  among  friends,  I  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  uttering  my  thoughts  on  the 
French  domination  without  reserve.  But  my  Jena 
friends  were  amazed  when  I  expressed  myself  with 
them  in  my  wonted  manner.  The  position  of  the 
Duke  of  Weimar  was  certainly  an  unenviable  one. 
In  the  days  of  his  flight,  when  in  his  absence  the 
duchess  had  to  receive  the  exasperated  Napoleon, 
she  had  borne  herself  in  so  imposing  a  way  that  he 
was  forced  to  respect  and  even  to  reverence  her. 
The  duke  was  suspected  by  the  French  Emperor, 
the  duchy  was  overrun  by  French  spies,  and  it  is 
plain  that  it  was  necessary  to  suppress  every  expres- 
sion which  might  compromise  the  Weimar  court.  I 
soon  saw  this,  and  during  my  stay  in  Jena  I  gov- 
erned myself  accordingly. 

But  all  the  more  was  I  surprised  at  the  power 
which  Goethe  exercised  over  all  the  judgments  of 
the  circle  in  which  I  moved.  But  when  it  is  re- 
membered how  long  this  royal  spirit  had  ruled  in 
Weimax,  and  been  honored  as  the  mightiest  in  Ger- 
many ;  how  the  intense  mental  conflicts  into  which 
I  had  been  plunged  raged  most  fiercely  around  him 


GOETHE.  191 

without  affecting  his  nature,  and  then  had  died 
away  leaving  him  still  unchanged,  still  standing  as 
the  one  only  beacon  left,  and  only  gleaming  the 
more  brightly  in  the  deepening  gloom,  it  can  be 
understood  why  he  ruled  with  such  unquestioned 
supremacy  all  the  minds  who  came  under  his  influ- 
ence. 

Already,  in  the  opening  years  of  the  century, 
there  were  some  who  saw  that  Goethe's  journeys  to 
Italy,  particularly  the  second,  formed  the  turning- 
point  in  his«development.  The  sharply-defined  indi- 
viduality, the  fearless  confidence  of  his  earlier  years, 
then  seemed  to  cease  ;  to  take  their  place  had  come 
a  quiet  humility  which  did  not  betoken  such  strength 
and  richness  of  genius  as  the  former  qualities  had 
done.  The  later  manifestations  of  his  mind  were 
commonly  supposed  to  be  well  and  truly  hit  off  by 
Novalis,  in  his  happy  saying  that  Goethe  loved  less 
to  deal  with  subjects  which  were  greater  than  he, 
than  with  those  which  he  could  perfectly  master, 
and  in  whose  delineation  he  was  most  at  home.  I 
shared  in  this  judgment  of  him,  indeed,  but  the 
results  which  were  drawn  from  it  I  could  noways 
perceive  were  legitimately  drawn,  and  they  seemed 
to  me  all  the  more  untrue,  in  view  of  the  entire  de- 
pendence on  his  judgment  which  was  manifested  in 
the  circle  around  him,  and  which  seemed  to  gi'ow 
even  when  the  infirmities  of  age  were  creeping 
upon  him  and  cramping  and  enfeebling  his  powers. 
The  earlier  writingrs  of  Goethe  had  had  a  charm  for 
me  which  the  later  ones  lacked.  The  great  power 
through  which  the  language  of  his  people  seemed 


192  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

in  his  hands  transformed  into  another  and  a  nobler 
tongue,  the  strength  which,  when  he  began  to  speak, 
went  forth  in  an  influence  which  had  no  limits,  the 
invincible  might  with  which  he  attacked  and  over- 
threw what  seemed  to  him  unworthily  idolized, — all 
these  had  seemed  to  me  in  my  early  years  like 
trumpet-tones  which  summoned  me,  too,  to  victory. 
His  later  works  did  not  fulfil  those  older  expecta- 
tions. His  views  then  seemed  to  be  in  agreement 
with  the  times  in  which  he  lived.  But  I  afterwards 
saw  that  his  life,  and  the  works  which  gave  his  life 
its  value,  were  a  complete  history  in  themselves,  and 
were  unrelated  to  the  great  era  through  which  he 
was  passing.  There  is  hardly  another  author  whose 
life  has  been  so  parallel  to  the  manner  in  which  a 
state  develops  itself,  and  where  the  epochs  of  youth, 
manhood  and  old  age  have  so  marked  a  historical 
rise  and  decline,  as  Goethe.  In  studying  his  life,  no 
stage  of  his  development  can  be  passed  by.  Even 
the  apparently  retrograde  course  of  his  later  years 
has  its  significance,  if  we  look  at  his  life  as  a  unit. 
In  his  last  works  there  can  still  be  discerned  the 
tokens  of  the  youth  mightily  struggling  to  express 
itself,  and  in  his  earliest  works  can  be  seen  that  ear- 
nest effort  to  attain  perfect  symmetry  which  charac- 
terized the  works  of  his  declining  years.  And  it  is 
because  this  is  developed  in  it  that  Eckermann's 
book  Jias  its  great  value  in  my  eyes;  for  there 
Goethe  appears  as  one  banished — one  who  has  bid 
adieu  to  the  works  of  his  life,  and  who  wanders  like 
a  majestic  old  man  among  the  ruins  of  a  great,  fallen 
state.     It  was  not  exhaustion  which  came  upon  him 


GOETHE'S  DEVELOPMENT.  193 

in  his  old  t\^q  ;  it  was  rather  the  slow  and  gradual 
decay  of  a  mind  which  enclosed,  as  few  minds  do, 
its  own.  history  within  itself.  And,  therefore,  in 
Goethe  we  must  carefully  discriminate  between  the 
j)rocess  of  unfolding  in  his  vehement  youth  and  the 
steps  of  his  matured  mind,  where,  instead  of  prog- 
ress, we  find  a,  growing  tendency  to  narrowness. 
The  transition  from  these  two  sections  of  his  exist- 
ence contains  the  secret  of  his  life  ;  it  was  what  he 
could  not  discover,  and  what  at  the  same  time  he 
knew  ;  it  brought  into  unity  what  he  would  do  and 
what  he  could  do,  and  showed  ii>  a  manner  not  to 
be  gainsaid  that  the  former  outweighed  the  latter. 
It  was  for  him  to  amass  literary  treasures  no  less 
precious  than  the  art  treasures  which  have  come  to 
us  from  the  Greeks;  to  others,  no  less  perplexed  than 
he  with  the  confused  political  ])roblems  of  the  time, 
he  left  the  task  of  lookinsr  forward  and  determininci: 
what  was  to  be  done.  And  when  Goethe  gave  up 
the  future  as  a  thing  in  which  he  had  no  part  to 
perform,  his  spirit  began  to  display  the  narrowness 
which  marked  his  old  age ;  not  that  his  creative 
genius  was  himed  at  all,  but  merely  that  it  with- 
drew within  itself,  and  became  a  thing  of  the  past. 
Even  what  the  passing  times,  so  rich  in  all  the  fruits 
of  human  speculation,  gave  him,  contributed  only 
to  the  formation  of  his  own  character  alone,  and 
wdiat  promised  a  glowing  future  for  the  other  mighty 
spirits  of  the  time,  was  of  worth  to  him  only  to  solve 
the  problem  of  his  own  past  life.  He  died  in  the 
largest  sense  full  of  years.  It  was  his  task  to  watch 
over  and  cherish  his  life  to  the  last,  not  so  much 

13 


194  THE  STORY  OF  MT  CAREER, 

for  what  it  should  be  as  for  what  it  had  been  ;  and 
when  his  veins  began  to  stiffen,  and  his  limbs  to  be 
heavy  and  clumsy,  and  his  tongue  to  be  slow,  when 
he  seemed  to  walk  like  an  old  man  among  the 
graves  of  buried  friends,  he  still  retained  that  noble 
bearing  which  showed  that  he  turned  to  the  past  to 
read  the  undeciphered  riddles  of  the  future.  His 
death  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  his  life.  He  had 
proudly  turned  away  from  his  times  ;  in  his  old  age 
he  did  not  seek  to  learn  of  any  living  man,  but 
haughtily  stood  alone ;  but  we,  looking  upon  that 
fading  form,  were  compelled  to  listen  to  its  enfee- 
bled words  till  they  ceased  at  last  in  death. 

Goethe  came  over  to  Jena,  and  I  saw  him  for 
the  first  time  after  seven  years  of  separation.  His 
presence  had  a  powerful  influence  upon  me.  He  ac- 
companied me  to  the  mineralogical  collection,  which, 
under  the  management  of  Prof.  Lentz,  had  become 
valuable.  I  was  then  busily  employed  on  my  Hand- 
book of  Mineralogy.  Goethe  was  a  well-known 
geognostical  dilettant;  his  repeated  journey ings  to 
Carlsbad  had  drawn  him  into  numerous  geological 
investigations,  and  our  conversation  was  not  con- 
fined to  one  direction,  but  ranged  over  the  whole 
field  of  science.  We  spoke  of.  his  optical  studies, 
and  of  his  views  on  the  metamorphosis  of  bones. 
Goethe  complained  bitterly  of  the  manner  in  which 
some  naturalists  had  abused  his  confidence,  publish- 
ing his  discoveries,  communicated  to  them  by  him- 
self, as  if  they  were  their  own.  This  conversation 
took  me  back  to  the  old  times.  Goethe  became 
more  amiable  and  cheerful,  and  I  enjoyed  a  degree 


DINNER  AT  GOETHE'S.  195 

of  happiness  which  for  years  I  had  not  experienced. 
Goethe  invited  my  wife,  Fromann's  family,  and  my- 
self, over  from  Jena  to  dine  with  him.  We  found 
at  the  table  besides  Goethe's  wife  only  Meyer,  Rie- 
mer,  and  the  poet  Werner.  Goethe  was  very  lively; 
the  conversation  turned  on  a  number  of  subjects, 
and  the  unconstrained  and  yet  suggestive  remarks 
of  our  host  pleased  and  exhilarated  us  all.  He 
could  make  himself  agreeable  even  to  the  ladies. 

At  length  he  turned  to  Werner,  who  had  had  lit- 
tle part  in  the  conversation  thus  far.  "  Now,  Wer- 
ner," said  he,  in  a  quiet,  but  at  the  same  time  author- 
itative way,  "  have  you,  nothing  with  which  you 
can  entertain  us,  —  no  poems  which  you  can  read  to 
us  ? "  Werner  plunged  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 
and  hastily  drew  out  a  mass  of  crumpled,  dirty 
papers,  so  that  I  was  amazed,  and  by  no  means  ap- 
proved of  the  request  of  Goethe,  which  promised 
to  extinguish  all  free  and  interesting  conversation. 
Werner  began  to  repeat  a  number  of  sonnets  in  a 
shocking  manner.  At  last  I  was  compelled  to  give 
some  attention  to  one  of  them.  The  subject  w^as 
the  beautiful  appearance  of  the  full  moon  as  it 
swam  in  the  clear  Italian  sky.  He  compared  it  to 
a  holy  wafer.  This  stiif  simile  enraged  me,  and 
had  on  Goethe  an  unpleasant  effect ;  he  turned  to 
me.  "Xow,  Steffens,"  asked  he,  outwardly  calm, 
while  he  tried  to  suppress  his  exasperation,  "what 
say  you  to  that  ? "  "  Mr.  Werner,"  I  answered, 
"had  the  kindness  to  read  a  sonnet  to  me  a  few 
days  ago,  in  which  he  expressed  his  regret  that  he 
had  come  to  Italy  too  late,  and  I  now  believe  that 


196  THE  STORY  OF  3IT  CAREER. 

he  w«is  right.  I  am  too  much  of  a  naturalist  to  wish 
for  an  exchange  between  the  moon  and  a  hallowed 
wafer ;  the  emblem  of  our  faith  loses  as  much  in  the 
comparison  as  the  moon."  On  this  Goethe  gave  up 
to  liis  feelings,  and  expressed  himself  with  a  w\ai'mth 
which  I  had  never  before  seen  in  him.  "I  hate," 
said  he,  "this  bald  religious  sentimentalism ;  do  not 
believe  that  I  will  show  it  any  quarter.  Neither  on 
the  stage  nor  here  will  I  listen  to  it,  in  whatever 
guise  it  may  appear."  After  he  had  talked  in  this 
strain  for  some  time,  and  with  louder  and  louder 
tones,  he  became  quiet.  "You  have  destroyed  the 
pleasure  of  my  dinner,"  said  he,  seriously;  you  know 
that  such  pitiful  poetical  pretences  are  an  abomina- 
tion to  me ;  you  have  made  me  forget  my  duty  to 
the  ladies."  He  now  gained  complete  command  of 
himself,  turned  with  language  of  apology  to  his  wife 
and  mine,  began  to  talk  on  indifferent  subjects,  but 
rose  soon  and  retired.  We  then  saw  that  he  felt 
himself  deeply  wounded,  and  that  he  was  going  to 
compose  his  mind  in  solitude.  Werner  was  like  one 
annihilated. 

When  I  visited  Goethe  before,  Riemer  was  not,  as 
now,  a  member  of  the  family.  He  was  then  private 
tutor  to  the  children  of  William  von  Humboldt, 
and  was  then  in  Italy.  I  met  him  for  the  first  time 
now  at  Goethe's  table.  Shortly  after  dinner  I  went 
where  Goethe  was,  and  found  him  perfectly  com- 
posed, and  having  seemingly  forgotten  the  affair. 
He  entered  into  cheerful  conversation,  and  showed 
me  some  optical  phenomena  which  were  interesting 
him  much  at  that  time.     When  I  left  him,  Riemer 


GOETHE'S  ONSLAUGHT  AT  DINNER.  197 

wnited  upon  mc  evidently  with  something  on  his 
mind.  He  began  to  speak  of  the  affair  at  the  din- 
•ner-table.  "What  you  have  seen  to-day,"  said  he, 
"is  of  such  rare  occurrence  that  I  scarcely  remem- 
ber ever  Avitnessing  anything  like  it  before."  I  as- 
sured him  that  eleven  years  before,  when  I  saw 
Goethe  often,  I  had  neither  witnessed  such  an  affair 
nor  did  I  believe  such  possible.  Riemer  went  on 
to  say,  "  You  know  how  everybody  busies  himself 
about  Goethe ;  how  all  his  expressions,  and  the  least 
things  which  he  does,  are  caught  up,  and  become 
themes  for  discussion  in  the  newspapers.  I  must 
ask  you  to  keep  what  passed  to-day  from  getting 
mto  print."  My  first  emotion  at  this  request  was 
indignation.  "I  may  not  presuppose,"  said  I,  "that 
you  know  anything  about  me  ;  had  you  been  ac- 
quainted with  me,  you  would  have  seen  that  your 
request  was  entirely  unnecessary ;  but  this  day  has 
been  so  deeply  interesting  to  me,  and  it  has  been 
such  a  rare  experience  to  live  to  witness  the  majes- 
tic scorn  of  the  great  man  of  our  age  over  the  sickly 
sentimentalities  of  the  times,  that  you  need  not  fear 
my  using  it  for  town  gossip.  Your  request  is  a  nat- 
ural one,  but  it  was  not  needed  with  me." 

Notwithstanding  all,  the  affair  got  abroad,  and 
was  in  every  one's  mouth.  A  great  civil  calamity 
could  not  have  made  more  uproar  in  the  circles  of 
Jena  and  Weimar.  I  could  have  believed  myself 
taken  back  to  the  times  of  Louis  XIV.,  with 
Goethe's  house  the  palace  of  a  mighty  king  whose 
anger,  fraught  with  the  most  dire  effects,  shook  all 
the  neighborhood  with  fear. 


198  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

I  parted  from  the  great  poet  then  for  the  last 
time.  He  was  sixty  years  of  age ;  he  lived  yet 
twenty  years,  but  I  never  saw  him  again.  He  was- 
all  calmness  when  I  left  him ;  every  trace  of  the 
anger  of  that  well-remembered  hour  at  dinner  had 
left  him,  and  he  was  his  own  serene  self  again.  His 
unruffled  brow  was  the  fit  mirror  of  his  untroubled 
mind. 

On  the  twenty-third  of  December,  1809,  the  cab- 
inet order  which  called  the  university  of  Berlin  into 
being  was  signed.  On  the  ninth  of  September, 
1810,  the  real  opening  occurred.  Men  of  wide  rep- 
utation filled  all  the  faculties.  In  the  theological, 
Schleiermacher  stood  before  all  others.  There  was 
no  other  whose  impression  upon  the  character  of 
the  whole  population  of  Berlin  was  like  Schleier- 
macher's ;  no  one  who  so  thoroughly  diffused  a 
national,  a  religious,  and  a  thoughtful  spirit,  as  he. 
The  city  was,  so  to  speak,  transformed  by  him,  and 
in  the  course  of  a  few  years  one  would  look  almost 
in  vain  for  the  traces  of  the  sunerficialitv  which  had 
so  long  ruled  there.  What  gave  him  his  surpassing 
influence  was  this :  that  he  was  a  true  Christian,  a 
patriotic  citizen,  a  bold  man,  pure  in  soul,  and  in 
intellect  strong,  clear,  and  decided.  Even  children 
thronged  to  listen  to  him,  and  men  and  women  of 
all  classes  in  life.  His  resolve  to  offer  himself  in 
the  service  of  his  country  had  a  kind  of  contagious 
power,  and  his  brave  way  of  not  merely  waiting  for 
better  times,  but  working  to  create  them,  kindled 
general  admiration.  His  strong,  kindling,  and  al- 
ways cheerful  spirit  worked  like  tinder.     For  the 


THE  FACULTY  AT  BERLIN.  199 

forces  which  he  set  in  motion  were  no  scattered  and 
feeble  powers  ;  they  were  the  nnifying  forces  set  in 
movement  by  a  mind  of  the  most  comprehensive 
grasp.  Thus  working  and  swaying  Berlin,  I  found 
my  friend  as  he  was  entering  upon  that  section  of 
his  lifp,  the  worth  of  which  those  who  knew  him 
can  fully  acknowledge. 

Savigny,  called  from  Landshut  to  Berlin,  was  at 
the  head  of  the  law  faculty.  He  was  even  then  the 
founder  of  a  new  school,  which,  despite  all  attacks, 
continually  grew  in  power.  Reil's  name  and  repu- 
tation gave  eclat  to  the  medical  department.  Hufe- 
land,  too,  was  regarded  a  Yexj  valuable  acquisition. 

In  the  philosophical  department  was  Fichte,  who, 
although  surrounded  by  opponents,  yet  exerted  a 
deep  influence.  His  natural  genius,  his  sharp  power 
of  analysis,  and  his  outspoken  patriotism,  gained 
him  many  friends  who  had  no  sympathy  with  his 
views.  But  he  laid  the  foundation  for  a  new  phi- 
losophy of  life,  which,  in  shifting  times  like  those, 
was  of  great  value.  The  confusion  into  which  all 
religious  and  scientific  and  municipal  affairs  were 
thrown,  led  every  one  to  see  how  great  the  neces- 
sity was  for  a  comprehensive  intellect  to  appear 
which  should  grasp  and  master  them  all.  And  such 
w  man  must  be  trusted  as  a  guide  even  if  he  were 
not  completely  understood.  And  Fichte  proved 
himself  able  to  meet  the  wants  of  the  times. 
Through  his  influence  was  initiated  that  series  of 
measures  which  resulted  in  the  introduction  of  a 
system  of  education  similar  to  that  which  Pestalozzi 
had  introduced  into  Switzerland.     Fichte  did  not 


200  THE  STonr  of  my  career. 

attempt  to  change  the  present,  but  he  would  form 
the-  future.  Fe\v  then  understood  the  power  and 
skill  involved  in  that  movement,  as  I  confess  I  my- 
self did  not,  till  events  proved  of  what  worth  it  was 
to  the  nation. 

But  Fichte's  well-known  relation  to  Schelling,  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  expressed  himself  regard- 
ing me,  and  the  consciousness  that  my  sympathy 
with  nature  had  no  response  in  him,  Ijeld  me  aloof 
from  him.  Boeckh  and  Bekker  were  called  to  the 
chairs  of  philology  in  the  university.  It  is  well 
known  liow  much  the  latter  has  in  his  quiet  and 
thorough  way  advanced  his  department,  and  how 
much  the  former,  who,  even  when  called  to  Berlin, 
had  attained  a  wide  reputation  for  deep  insight  into 
the  modes  of  living  and  thinking  among  the  Greeks, 
has  done  to  restore  and  further  the  studv  of  anti- 
quity.  The  celebrated  Niebuhr,  after  devoting  him- 
self for  some  years  to  the  weightiest  duties  of  tho 
state,  especially  in  the  financial  department,  and 
wielding  a  great  influence  in  that  position,  withdrew 
from  those  duties,  and  entered  upon  those  of  a  pro- 
fessor. The  first  lectures  in  the  new  university  were 
delivered  on  the  fifteenth  of  October,  1810. 

Never  did  an  institution  of  learning  enter  upon 
its  career  more  brilliantly  than  this  ;  never  was  the 
value  of  a  great  university  more  appreciated  than 
here.  We  are  referred  with  great  pride  to  the 
founding  of  Gottingen,  a  hundred  years  before,  as 
the  most  successful  effort  of  the  kind,  and  the 
founder  of  Gottingen  is  indeed  immortal.  But  that 
work  was  carried  through  in  times  of  peace ;  the 


GATHERINGS  OF  BERLIN  SAVANS.  201 

most  eminent  scholars  were  in  secure  possession 
of  their  reputation,  and  so  the  choice  of  professors 
W£8  an  easy  one.  A  rich  land  easily  furnished  the 
needed  means,  and  the  king  of  England,  as  tlie  ruler 
of  Hanover,  stood  as  the  foster-father  of  the  whole 
undertaking.  But  in  Berlin  a  university  arose  with 
unprecedented  quickness  at  a  time  when  all  the  sup- 
ports of  the  state  seemed  shattered,  and  in  a  time  of 
deepest  poverty  money  flowed  forth  in  ample  sup- 
plies. I  never  heard  a  word  of  criticism  on  the 
amounts  which  were  required  to  found  this  noble 
and  enduring  monument  of  the  wisdom  and  pat- 
riotism of  the  founders  of  the  university  of  Berlin. 

However  various,  however  antagonistic  even,  the 
views  of  the  Berlin  professors  might  be,  yet  there 
was  in  those  palmy  days  a  tie  of  union  between 
them  all.  How  happy  Niebuhr  felt  himself  in  his 
intimate  companionship  with  kindred  spirits ;  how 
zealously  lie  gave  himself  to  his  classic  work  on 
Roman  History,  after  a  long  interruption,  every 
reader  of  his  interesting  letters  ^  knows.  The  phi- 
lologists, under  the  promptings  of  Schleiermacher, 
formed  an  association  of  great  attractiveness.  Their 
meetings  were  friendly  gatherings,  where  they  busied 
themselves  with  some  Greek  author,  and  where,  it 
cannot  be  doubted,  great  gains  were  made  to  the 
cause  of  science.  The  naturalists,  too,  had  their 
meetings,  whose  influence  extended  over  the  whole 
of  Europe. 

This  painting  of  the  beginning  of  the  univei'sity 

1  Life  and  Letters  of  Niebuhr.    New  York :  Harper  and  Brothers. 


202  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

of  Berlin  may  seem  highly  colored,  but  it  is  entirely 
impartial.  I  am  writing  the  history  of  what  I  have 
lived  to  see,  and  I  cannot  deny  that  I  looked  with 
the  fondest  hopes  at  the  opening  of  an  institution 
with  which  I  associated  but  one  object  of  regret, 
and  that  was  that  I  had  no  share  in  it.  When  I 
saw  AYolf,  Horkel,  Reil,  and  Schleiermacher  there,  I 
certainly  felt  like  one  in  exile,  and  yet  my  joy  was 
pure,  and  my  hopes  for  it  strong. 

Viewed  from  the  relations  under  which  I  received 
and  accepkjd  tlie  call  to  Breslau,  the  prospect  of 
going  to  live  in  Silesia  was  by  no  means  agreeable. 
I  had  a  prejudice  against  the  province;  the  Silesians 
were,  in  my  imagination,  a  half-enslaved  people. 
The  predominance  of  the  Catholic  population,  too, 
was  not  to  my  liking,  and  Breslau,  in  special,  was 
inclined  to  bigotry  in  this  faith.  Nor  could  I  for- 
get that  Frederick  the  Great  tolerated  the  Jesuits 
in  this  province  after  the  pope  himself  had  taken 
away  the  rights  and  privileges  of  this  order  in  many 
professed  Catholic  lands.  It  seemed  to  me,  that  in 
a  fit  of  feeling  peculiar  to  him  he  had  failed  to  dis- 
cern that  they  were  among  his  greatest  enemies, 
and  that  he  had  showed  them  too  great  leniency. 
It  was,  in  my  eyes,  a  sign  of  bad  omen  that  the 
university  was  to  be  established  in  the  building  for- 
merly occupied  as  the  Jesuits'  college. 

Besides,  the  literary  reputation  of  Breslau  was 
not  especially  attractive,  and  there  was  a  certain 
marked  provincialism  to  be  detected  not  only  in 
books,  but  in  reviews,  in  newspapers,  and  in  conver- 
sation.    There  was,  also,  a  narrow  family  and  clique 


ARRIVAL  AT  BRESLAU.  203 

Spirit  everywhere  discernible,  but  made  more  par- 
ticularly manifest  at  funerals,  birthdays,  and  mar- 
riages. But  what  made  my  position  especially 
repulsive  v/as,  that,  having  gone  into  voluntary 
exile  from  my  own  land,  and  having  given  my 
whole  heart  to  the  cause  and  hopes  of  Germany,  I 
did  not  feel  inclined  to  go  into  a  district  where  all 
broad,  national  feeling  was  merged  in  mere  local  in- 
terests. Almost  fourteen  years  I  had  lived  in  my 
adopted  country,  and  I  was  now  wedded  to  all  that 
concerned  its  weal.  I  had  watched  the  rising  of 
that  great  spirit  of  philosophical  inquiry  which  the 
opening  of  this  century  witnessed,  and  the  men  to 
whom  I  was  indebted  for  my  own  enthusiasm  in 
the  cause  of  learning.  Among  them  I  had  hoped 
to  live  and  die ;  and  it  was  a  hard  thought  that  I 
must  take  up  my  abode  in  a  district  which,  though 
German  in  name,  was  as  outside  of  the  German  na- 
tional life,  and  feel  in  g:  as  if  it  were  still  an  Austrian 
province.  And  yet,  when  I  considered  the  shattered 
condition  of  Germany,  its  dark  and  uncertain  future, 
and  the  ruin  of  the  once-flourishing  Halle  university, 
I  felt  that  I  could  even  welcome  any  new  course  of 
life  which  should  take  me  away  from  these  sad  ruins 
of  what  had  been  so  great  and  promising. 

Breslau  was  at  that  time  in  a  very  disagi'eeable 
condition.  The  dry  summer  had  left  only  an  empty 
river-bed  to  the  Oder ;  the  city  lay  in  a  parched 
tract,  and,  surrounded  by  its  levelled  walls,  it  had 
the  appearance  of  a  place  which  had  been  taken  and 
made  defenceless.  There  were  then  from  sixty  to 
seventy   thousand   inhabitants,   though    since   then 


204  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  number  has  greatly  increased.  And  yet  the 
city  had  a  certain  imposing  appearance.  The  high 
houses,  the  huge  store-houses,  all  indicated  a  place 
of  importance ;  churches  and  old  edifices  testified 
to  a  not  insignificant  civic  history,  and  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  place  may  be  compared  to  that  of  an 
old  man  bearing  in  his  face  the  marks  of  an  active, 
honored  and  useful  life. 

The  i5<?ople  were  more  friendly  and  more  worthy 
of  notice  than  I  at  first  supposed,  and  many  features 
in  their  character  pleased  me  much.  At  the  time 
of  our  removal  to  Breslau  they  were  in  a  good  deal 
of  excitement ;  the  professors  and  the  students  from 
Frankfort  were  pouring  in.  The  former  were  nearly 
all  strangers  to  me;  Gass,  alone,  Schleiermacher's 
friend,  was  an  old  acquaintance.  The  work  which 
now  stood  before  me  was  new  to  me.  A  university 
was  to  be  irot  tocrether  out  of  the  most  hetero2fcne- 
ous  materials,  and,  although  some  of  th§  arrange- 
ments had  already  been  made,  yet  it  seemed  as  if 
mine  must  be  for  some  time  an  idle  life.  As  I  was 
to  lecture  on  experimental  physics,  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  I  should  find  many  deficiencies  in  my 
department,  and  this  was  really  the  case.  Although 
the  college-building  occupied  by  the  Jesuits  was 
delivered  over  to  us,  yet  its  accommodations  were 
only  partially  ample  for  our  purpose.  I  had  to  con- 
tent myself  for  some  time  with  an  ill-arranged  hall, 
and  many  of  my  colleagues  did  not  fixre  better.  My 
ofiicial  dwelling  was  not  yet  in  readiness  for  me,  and 
I  had  to  hire  one  for  a  year. 

At  Breslau,  I  was  able  to  renew  my  intimacy  with 


PROFESSORSHIP  AT  BRESLAU,  205 

Carl  von  Raiimer,  whose  reputation  ns  a  geologist  is 
only  equalled  by  that  of  his  brother  as  a  historian. 
There  arose  between  the  forn"^r  and  the  sister  of 
my  v/ife  an  intimacy  which  culminated  at  length  in 
their  marriaGfC.  Carl  von  Ranmer  was  remarkable 
for  his  serious  earnestness  of  purpose.  His  mind 
was  essentially  introspective  and  religious.  My  first 
book,  the  one  already  mentioned  as  written  at  Frei- 
berg, had  drawn  him  to  Halle,  and  a  friend  of  his 
wrote  me  that  that  book  exercised  a  decisive  influ- 
ence over  his  wdiole  life.  From  Halle  he  went  to 
Freiberg,  and  even  while  Werner's  scholar  he  over- 
turned and  shattered  Ijis  master's  whole  theory, 
which  regarded  granite  as  the  basis  of  mountain 
formations.  He  and  I  did  not  always  agree  in  our 
views,  yet  I  always  respected  and  admired  his  genius 
and  his  character. 

The  university  was  opened  with  solemn  services. 
The  professors  were,  I  think,  not  all  assembled;  those 
from  Frankfort  were  on  the  ground,  but  many  of 
those  called  from  abroad  had  not  arrived.  Link  had 
been  invited  from  Rostock  as  professor  of  chemistry 
and  botany,  and  had  been  charged  with  the  duty 
of  forming  a  botanical  garden.  Heindorf  had  been 
called  from  Berlin  as  philological  professor.  Rau- 
mer,  the  historian,  Wachler,  Unterholzner,  and  Pas- 
sow,  were  expected.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
professorial  corps  was  more  than  respectable,  and 
much  was  expected  of  it.  The  students  began  to 
come  in,  mainly  of  course  from  different  parts  of  Si- 
lesia. There  was  an  unwonted  and  shocking  preva- 
lence of  that  boorishness  and  outlandishness  among 


204  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  number  has  greatly  increased.  And  yet  the 
city  had  a  certain  imposing  appearance.  The  high 
houses,  the  huge  store-houses,  all  indicated  a  place 
of  importance  ;  churches  and  old  edifices  testified 
to  a  not  insignificant  civic  history,  and  the  v/hole 
aspect  of  the  place  may  be  compared  to  that  of  an 
old  man  bearing  in  his  face  the  marks  of  an  active, 
honored  and  useful  life. 

The  people  were  more  friendly  and  more  worthy 
of  notice  than  I  at  first  supposed,  and  many  features 
in  their  character  pleased  me  much.  At  the  time 
of  our  removal  to  Breslau  they  were  in  a  good  deal 
of  excitement ;  the  professors  and  the  students  from 
Frankfort  were  pouring  in.  The  former  were  nearly 
all  strangers  to  me;  Gass,  alone,  Schleiermacher's 
friend,  was  an  old  acquaintance.  The  work  which 
now  stood  before  me  was  new  to  me.  A  university 
was  to  be  got  together  out  of  the  most  heterogene- 
ous materials,  and,  although  some  of  thg  arrange- 
ments had  already  been  made,  yet  it  seemed  as  if 
mine  must  be  for  some  time  an  idle  life.  As  I  was 
to  lecture  on  experimental  physics,  it  may  be  sup- 
posed that  I  should  find  many  deficiencies  in  my 
department,  and  this  was  really  the  case.  Although 
the  college-building  occupied  by  the  Jesuits  was 
delivered  over  to  us,  yet  its  accommodations  were 
only  partially  ample  for  our  purpose.  I  had  to  con- 
tent myself  for  some  time  with  an  ill-arranged  hall, 
and  many  of  my  colleagues  did  not  fiire  better.  My 
ofiicial  dwelling  was  not  yet  in  readiness  for  me,  and 
I  had  to  hire  one  for  a  year. 

At  Breslau,  I  was  able  to  renew  my  intimacy  with 


PROFESSORSHIP  AT  BRESLAU,  205 

Carl  von  Raumer,  whose  reputation  ns  a  geologist  is 
only  equalled  by  that  of  liis  brother  as  a  historian. 
There  arose  between  the  forn"^r  and  the  sister  of 
my  v;ife  an  intimacy  which  culminated  at  length,  in 
their  marriage.  Carl  von  Raumer  was  remarkable 
for  his  serious  earnestness  of  purpose.  Ilis  mind 
was  essentially  introspective  and  religious.  My  first 
book,  the  one  already  mentioned  as  written  at  Frei- 
berg, had  drawn  him  to  Halle,  and  a  friend  of  his 
wrote  me  that  that  book  exercised  a  decisive  influ- 
ence over  his  wdiole  life.  From  Halle  he  went  to 
Freiberg,  and  even  while  Werner's  scholar  he  over- 
turned and  shattered  his  master's  whole  theory, 
which  regarded  granite  as  the  basis  of  mountain 
formations.  He  and  I  did  not  always  agree  in  our 
views,  yet  I  always  respected  and  admired  his  genius 
and  his  character. 

The  university  was  opened  with  solemn  services. 
The  professors  were,  I  think,  not  all  assembled;  those 
from  Frankfort  were  on  the  ground,  but  many  of 
those  called  from  abroad  had  not  arrived.  Link  had 
been  invited  from  Rostock  as  professor  of  chemistry 
and  botany,  and  had  been  charged  with  the  duty 
of  forming  a  botanical  garden.  Heindorf  had  been 
called  from  Berlin  as  ])hilological  professor.  Rau- 
mer, the  historian,  Wachler,  Unterholzner,  and  Pas- 
sow,  were  expected.  Thus  it  will  be  seen  that  the 
professorial  corps  was  more  than  respectable,  and 
much  was  expected  of  it.  The  students  began  to 
come  in,  mainly  of  course  from  different  parts  of  Si- 
lesia. There  was  an  unwonted  and  shocking  preva- 
lence of  that  boorishness  and  outlandishness  among 


206  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

them  that  I  had  ah-eady  seen,  though  in  less  meas- 
ure, at  Jena.  Their  different  hurschen  alliances  were 
numerous,  and  so  there  were  frequent  outbreaks  of 
student  outlawry.  This  died  away  year  by  year; 
still,  when  I  left  Breslau,  after  thirty  years  of  ser- 
vice, it  had  not  wholly  disappeared.  They  were 
generally  a  very  ignorant  set  of  young  men,  and 
there  were  plenty  among  them  who  had  never  heard 
even  of  the  existence  of  Kant,  Fichte,  and  Schel- 
ling.  Some  there  were  who  had  never  heard  of 
Lessing,  Goethe,  and  Schiller.  I  labored  hard  to 
soften  the  manners,  to  tame  the  fierceness,  and  to 
deepen  the  scientific  interest  of  the  young  men. 
My  brother  professors  helped  in  this  good  work, 
and  we  had  the  happiness  of  seeing  much  accom- 
plished, only  it  was  a  slow  and  gradual  process. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

STEFFENS'S  MILITARY  CAREER.  — DARK  POLITICAL  PROS- 
PECTS—GENERAL GNEISENAU  —  PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT  —  STIR  IN 
BRESLAU  — SCENE  IN  STEFFENS'S  LECTURE-ROOM  —  HIS  LETTER 
FROM  THE  KING  — THE  PHILOSOPHER  BECOMES  LIEUTENANT  — 
STEIN  —  BLOCKER. 

Whilst  the  university  at  Breslau  was  being 
formed,  and  while  I  continued  to  try  to  nurture 
to  the  best  of  my  power  those  seeds  of  national 
independence  which  continued,  in  a  cutting  atmos- 
phere, gradually,  though  by  slow  degrees,  to  fruc- 
tify, the  outward  circumstances  of  the  people  grew 
darker  and  darker.  Hard  as  was  the  outward  tyr- 
anny of  the  invaders,  their  indirect  influence  was 
still  more  fearful  and  destructive.  Nothing  good 
could  flourish  under  such  'a  sway.  In  Breslau  we 
heard  much  of  the  excesses  during  the  war,  and 
there  were  terrible  recollections  of  outrages  which 
had  been  committed  by  those  troops  of  Southern 
Germany  which  had  joined  the  French  army.  Thus 
had  German  feelings  under  French  influence  been 
turned  against  their  own  country,  and  the  fearful 
time  seemed  now  approaching  when  a  Prussian 
army  might  combine  with  the  French  for  the  final 
subjugation  of  the  land.  The  heaviest  oppression 
which  I  had  witnessed  in  Halle  seemed  a  light  mis- 
fortune when  compared  to  this.     I  foresaw  that  if 

207 


208  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

the  Prussians  should  learn  to  consider  themselves  as 
a  part  of  the  Frencli  army,  and  think  it  an  honor  to 
join  them  in  the  exultation  of  victory,  tlie  poison 
v/ould  be  extended  to  tlie  whole  nation,  and  patriot- 
ism disappear  wholly  from  the  land. 

I  became  acquainted  with  General  von  Grawcrt, 
then  at  Breslau,  engaged  in  the  topograpliical  sur- 
vey of  Prussia,  which  was  an  important  aid  to  ray 
means  of  learninGf  the  form  as  well  as  structure  of 
the  Silesian  mountains.  His  Adjutant-Major  von 
Hiller  also  became  my  friend.  This  truly  patriotic- 
minded  officer  was  painfully  alive  to  his  unhappy 
position,  and  his  grief  was  extreme  to  find  himself 
compelled  to  act  against  his  country's  interests.  My 
conversations  with  him  increased  my  own  fears.  It 
was  clear  that  Austria  must  arm  for  Napoleon,  now 
that  he  was  son-in-law  to  the  Austrian  emperor ; 
hence  almost  every  hope  of  resisting  the  subjugation 
of  the  whole  of  Germany  was  extinguished.  Yet 
I  could  not  quite  abandon  hope;  and  our  news  from 
Russia  of  the  determination  after  a  lost  battle  to 
retire  and  lay  the  country  waste  revived  it  in  the 
shape  that  the  insanity  of  boundless  ambition  might 
there  receive  a  check. 

If  the  then  state  of  Prussia  was  so  overwhelm- 
ing to  me  in  my  retired  existence,  how  must  those 
have  felt  who  to  the  last  had  cherished  a  belief  in 
the  possibility  of  a  general  resistance !  When  the 
gloomy  night  of  German  despair  was  at  the  darkest, 
the  secret  league  was  still  kept  up,  consisting  of  the 
noblest  spirits  both  in  Austria  and  Prussia,  and  they 
were  connected  by  a  secret  confederacy  with  many 


DARK  POLITICAL  PROSPECTS.  209 

among  the  German-minded  English.  Let  the  rulers 
who  now  sway  the  destinies  of  those  three  countries 
ever  bear  that  league  in  mind,  so  powerless  to  all 
appearance  then,  and  yet  so  mighty  but  a  few  years 
later :  they  will  perceive  in  that  time  of  cruellest 
oppression,  that  moment  of  impending  destruction, 
and  that  rapidly  succeeding  liberation,  a  prophetic 
meaning  for  the  guidance  of  future  centuries. 

Though  occupied  with  the  absorbing  duties  and 
interests  of  an  infant  institution,  I  continued  to 
watch  the  political  state  of  Prussia  with  passionate 
devotion.  As  the  reports  strengthened  that  Prus- 
sia, Austria,  and  other  German  states  were  likely  to 
combine  with  France  in  hostilities  against  Russia,  I 
longed  to  know  whether  such  men  as  Gneisenau, 
Chasot,  Eichhorn,  and  Schleierraacher,  had  yet  aban- 
doned their  last  hope  of  freedom.  Those  few  might 
yet  withstand  the  withering  influence  which  para- 
lyzed so  many  once  undaunted  patriots,  an  influence 
under  which  hope  drooped  and  mutual  confidence 
was  changed  into  mistrust.  Too  many  of  the  con- 
federates, once  secretly  sworn  to  defend  their  coun- 
try, strove  amongst  themselves,  and  a  subdued  peo- 
ple were  armed  to  fight  for  the  tyrant  who  oppressed 
them.  But  I  felt  that  I  had  vet  work  to  do.  I  could 
try  to  influence  the  minds  of  men,  and  invigorate 
their  failing  spirits ;  and  in  the  religious  belief  in 
a  future  but  most  certain  triumph  I  pursued  the 
struggle,  though  unaided  by  the  friends  of  more 
propitious  times.  At  last  I  felt  myself  alone  in  the 
contest.  I  felt  the  pressing  evils  which  bore  down 
the  boldest  hearts  as  much  as  they  did ;  but  those 

14 


212  THE  STORY  OF  MY   CAREER, 

them  on  to  victory,  though  it  taught  them  overbear- 
ing manners. 

I  have  had  the  happy  lot  to  be  in  the  society  of 
many  remarkable  men,  but  I  never  regretted  hav- 
ing a  conversation  interrupted  as  I  have  done  when 
with  Gneisenau.  I  nev^-  heard  an  unmeaning  word 
from  his  lips ;  even  on  intellectual  subjects  there 
was  in  his  modestly-expressed  opinions  an  irresisti- 
ble weight.  Every  one  felt  the  depth  of  his  reflect- 
ing powers,  and  perceived  that  w^hen  he  spoke  he 
thought  more  of  that  wherein  he  believed  himself 
to  fail  than  of  the  treasures  of  experience  which  he 
had  gathered  while  assisting  the  greatest  minds  of 
the  age  to  mature  sound  principles  whereby  to  in- 
fluence the  fate  of  Europe.  There  was  something 
princely  in  his  look  and  mode  of  expression  ;  when 
his  manner  was  most  humble  he  seemed  to  bow 
with  conscious  self-possession ;  he  was  the  most 
chivalrous,  the  most  liberal  hero,  that  I  ever  saw ; 
"whoever  had  the  happy  fortune  to  excite  his  in- 
terest might  firmly  depend  on  his  effectual  support 
under  every  circumstance.  I  think  with  gratitude 
of  his  benevolent  goodness  to  me  from  the  time 
that  he  first  entered  my  dwelling;  every  remem- 
brance of  him  is  most  mournful,  but  most  dear. 
He  came  to  me  a  few  days  before  his  sudden  and 
deeply-lamented  death,  with  the  dignified,  firm  car- 
riage which  he  preserved  even  to  old  age.  Never 
did  the  cholera  seem  to  me  such  a  cruel  scourge  as 
when  it  seized  him  for  a  victim. 

The  powerful  influence  of  Arndt's  writings  in 
Germany,  in  1805  and  1806,  is  well  known.     Whilst 


PROSPECTS  OF  GERMANY.  213 

other  authors  were  awed  to  silence,  he  alone  avowed 
his  principles  Yni\\  intrepidity.  His  loud  trumpet 
of  war,  which  sounded  its  mighty  alarm  through 
the  press,  was  not  silenced  through  those  unhappy 
years  of  tyranny.  Calling  for  aid,  it  sounded  ou 
when  hardly  one  sign  of  hopeful  effort  was  appa- 
rent ;  he  was  destined  to  awake  the  sleepers,  —  to 
arm  the  nation  to  resistance  by  words  of  strength 
and  virtue.  From  the  time  we  met  he  was  my  truo 
friend. 

That  the  state  and  prospects  of  Germany  were 
the  subjects  of  our  continual  discussions,  may  easily 
be  guessed.  I  then  learnt  that  the  secret  league  still 
existed  in  full  force.  We  believed  that  we  could 
trust  England,  though  I  must  confess  that  neither 
the  people  nor  their  parliament  seemed  to  afford 
that  energetic  sympathy  with  the  oppressed  conti- 
nental powers  which  their  position  seemed  to  claim. 

Austria  seemed  outwardly  bound  to  France,  but 
that  this  alliance  would  ultimately  be  more  danger- 
ous to  her  than  the  most  unequal  warfare,  was  as 
clearly  understood  in  Vienna  as  in  Berlin.  The 
true-minded  but  timid  Austrians,  who  feared  a  total 
overthrow  in  a  contest  with  France,  could  not  con- 
ceal from  themselves  that  the  treaty  with  her  was  a 
voluntary  surrender  of  their  liberties,  while  they 
could  but  seek  an  honorable  fall  by  their  resistance. 
Who  has  not  learned  from  history  that  nations  who 
have  nerved  themselves  to  the  uttermost  point  of 
resistance  have  found  the  germ  of  revived  inde- 
pendence at  the  very  time  when  its  extinction 
seemed  inevitable  ?  while  a  yielding,  timid  people, 


214         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

like  a  hectic  patient,  fancies  itself  most  secure  when 
death  is  nearest,  and,  constantly  deluded,  resigns  the 
last  sickly  liope  only  with  the  dying  breath. 

Everybody  lived  at  that  time  in  the  intense  ex- 
citement which  prevails  when  a  promise  of  being 
rescued  from  a  wretched  position  has  been  observed, 
and  the  moment  has  not  yet  arrived  for  active  ex- 
ertion. The  twenty-ninth  bulletin  had  appeared ; 
every  artful  expression  in  it  seemed  to  endeavor 
vainly  to  conceal  the  news  of  a  total  defeat.  The 
vision  of  a  wonderful  agitated  future  rose  in  every 
mind  with  all  its  hopes  and  terrors;  it  was  breathed 
out  at  first  in  tones  scarcely  audible ;  even  those 
who  had  believed  that  unbridled  ambition  would 
Und  its  check  in  the  land  which  it  had  desolated, 
could  not  realize  the  horrible  destruction  of  a  victo- 
rious army  —  an  army  which  had  for  fifteen  years, 
with  growing  might,  excited  first  the  admiration, 
then  the  terror,  and  lastly  the  paralyzed  dismay  of 
all  the  continental  nations,  and  which  had  at  length 
been  overtaked  by  a  fearful  judgment,  more  won- 
derful than  its  conquests.  But  the  strange  event 
was  there ;  reports  no  longer  to  be  doubted  crowded 
in  upon  us  ;  the  distant  voice  approached  ;  the  por- 
tentous words  sounded  clearer  and  clearer,  and  at 
last  the  loud  call  to  rise  was  shouted  through  the 
land.  Then  did  the  flood  of  feeling  burst  from 
hearts  where  it  had  been  long  pent  up ;  fuller  and 
freer  did  it  flow ;  then  the  long-hidden  love  to 
king  and  country  flamed  brightly  out,  and  the  dull- 
est minds  were  animated  by  the  wild  enthusiasm. 
Every  one  looked  for  a  tremendous  crisis,  but  the 


NAPOLEON'S  FLIGHT  FROM  RUSSIA,  215 

moment  was  not  yet  come  for  action,  and  while  rest- 
ing in  breathless  expectation,  thousands  and  thou- 
sands became  every  hour  stronsjer  still  to  meet  it. 

It  was  said  that  Napoleon,  accompanied  only  by 
one  of  his  generals,  had  fled  in  a  sledge  through 
Silesia,  travelling  day  and  night.  A  postmaster  had 
recognized  him  in  Hainan.  In  Breslau  all  was  ex- 
citement, all  household  duties  and  affairs  were  for- 
gotten, everybody  was  collected  in  the  streets,  and 
all  looked  for  the  leader  who  was  to  order  them  to 
arm. 

The  first  thought  was  for  the  safety  of  the  khig ; 
it  was  feared  that  the  remains  of  the  French  army 
raii^ht  insure  their  safe  retreat  from  Berlin  bv  seiz- 

ing  his  sacred  person.     Herr  B.  von  L -,  urged 

by  this  apprehension,  addressed  himself  immediately 
to  the  king,  and  entreated  him  to  leave  Berlin  and 
repair  to  Breslau,  where,  on  ground  not  invested  by 
the  enemy,  surrounded  by  faithful  subjects,  he  might 
be  safer  than  in  a  city  actually  in  possession  of  tho 
French.  Those  who  surrounded  the  king,  however, 
feared  his  taking  so  dangerous  a  step.    A  few  days 

after  this  Herr  von  L was  seized  in  the  nisht 

by  gendarmes,  carried  olF  to  Berlin,  and  there  im- 
prisoned, though  he  was  shortly  afterwards  liberated. 

Though  now  at  the  very  dawn  of  the  long  hoped- 
for  day,  I  felt  myself  strangely  depressed.  Six  years, 
I  said  to  myself,  have  I  been  looking  for  this  mo- 
ment as  the  most  blessed  of  my  life,  and  here  am  I, 
in  a  city  remote  from  the  scene  of  activity ;  further 
south  and  west  the  liberators  of  Germany  will  as- 
semble, and  I  must  listen  here  inactively  to  accounts 


216  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

of  stirring  events  as  to  so  many  tales.  I  was  in  this 
discontented  state  of  mind  when  the  report  gained 

ground   that  B.  von  L 's   proposal   was   to   be 

granted ;  it  was  followed  by  orders  to  prepare  ac- 
commodation for  the  king  and  his  suite.  And  he 
arrived  shortly  after  with  his  children.  Harden- 
berg  was  with  him,  and  a  crowd  of  officers  and 
generals  followed.  General  v.  York's  intrepid  ac- 
tion was  soon  reported,  and  the  war  was  considered 
to  have  commenced,  though  no  declaration  had  yet 
been  issued.  The  influx  of  men,  especially  young 
ones,  was  enormous ;  every  house  was  crammed, 
and  the  streets  were  all  bustle.  Scharnhorst  had 
come.  Gneisenau  was  expected.  One  feeling  ani- 
mated all.  Business,  circumstances,  connections, 
friendship,  were  thought  of  only  to  devote  them 
all  to  the  one  gre*at  object,  but  that  object  had  still 
to  be  viewed  only  through  a  mist  of  painful  doubt. 
The  king  had  not  approved  of  General  v.  York's 
open  and  brilliant  demonstration;  it  was  not  im- 
possible that  he  might  be  disgraced  for  it.  The 
much-respected  French  ambassador,  St.  Marsan,  ac- 
companied the  king  to  Breslau.  The  balance  yet 
hung  doubtfully,  whether,  notwithstanding  the  ar- 
dent longings  of  the  whole  nation.  General  v.  York 
might  be  sacrificed,  and  common  cause  made  with 
Napoleon  to  attack  Russia,  or  whether,  allied  with 
Russia,  war  should  be  declared  against  Napoleon. 

Among  those  assembled  in  Breslau  was  Bolken- 
stern,  who  had  been  sent  by  Gneisenau  to  Halle  to 
keep  up  the  interest  of  our  secret  correspondence ; 
he  belonged  to  Scharnhorst's  school,  that  is,  to  the 


PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT.  217 

young  officers  from  whom  Gneisenau  expected  most 
in  the  approaching  war.  I  joined  a  large  group  of 
officers  at  his  lodgings,  and  learned  that  th6  Gazette 
of  the  same  day  would  contain  the  king's  appeal 
for  a  voluntary  arming.  All  the  youth  of  Prussia 
were  expecting  it,  but  on  looking  over  a  copy  we 
saw  there  was  no  allusion  to  the  subject,  and  this 
paralyzing  silence  as  to  the  enemy  was  discussed 
with  great  disapprobation  and  alarm.  In  an  excite- 
ment of  mixed  joy  and  apprehension  I  left  the 
meeting.  I  passed  a  disturbed,  dreamy  night,  and 
awoke  early  to  prejDare  for  a  lecture  on  natural  phi- 
losophy, whiah  was  to  be  given  at  eight.  I  had,  as 
usual,  not  communicated  to  my  family  what  had 
passed  at  Bolkenstern's,  but  an  idea  seized  me: 
"  It  is  for  you,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  to  proclaim  the 
war ;  your  position  permits  it,  and  what  the  court 
may  afterwards  determine  will  be  indiffi^rent  to 
you."  I  never  doubted  of  the  king's  determination 
to  join  with  Russia.  That  it  was  utterly  impossible 
to  appeal  to  the  youth  of  Prussia  to  light  for  France 
was  perfectly  clear,  but  there  might  be  reasons  for 
keeping  the  enemy  in  suspense,  though  after  the 
king's  appeal  they  were  incomprehensible  to  me. 
It  is  possible,  I  argued,  that  to  preserve  this  decep- 
tion my  open  act  may  be  disapproved  or  even  pun- 
ished. I  might  be  imprisoned  —  ruined.  All  this 
was  unworthy  of  consideration  at  a  moment  of  such 
urgency. 

My  class  was  not  large,  there  was  little  interest  in 
the  university  for  philosophy,  and  the  agitation  of 
the  time  had  thinned  all  the  lecture-rooms.     I  was 


218  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

just  established  in  my  new  residence,  of  wbicli  the 
lectnre-rooni  and  ray  study  formed  n  wing.  I  was 
to  give  jinother  lecture  from  eleven  till  twelve.  Tlio 
lirst  was  concluded,  and  no  one  had  guessed  what 
had  occupied  my  whole  mind  throughout ;  it  Avas 
that  which  I  had  for  vears  striven  for  and  lonired 
for.     I  turned  to  my  hearers  and  said,  — 

"  Gentlemen,  I  shall  give  another  lecture  at  eleven 
o'clock,  but  I  shall  choose  a  theme  of  all-absorbinir 
importance.  The  king's  command  for  a  general 
arming  has  appeared,  or  will  do  so  to-day ;  I  shall 
lecture  upon  that.  Let  my  intention  be  generally 
known.  If  the  other  lecture-rooms  o^q  deserted,  it 
matters  not ;  I  expect  as  many  as  this  room  Avill 
hold." 

The  excitement  in  the  town  was  nnboimded,  and 
the  eagerness  excessive  to  know  in  what  direction 
the  suddenly  called  out  force  was  to  be  used.  Thou- 
sands pouring  into  the  town  mixed  with  the  inhab- 
itants in  the  crowded  streets,  amidst  troops,  ammu- 
nition wagons,  cannon,  and  loads  of  arms  of  every 
description.  The  slightest  word  calculated  to  throw 
any  light  on  the  state  of  things  was  caught  up  and 
repeated  in  every  direction.  Scarcely  had  the  half 
of  my  two  hours'  interval  elapsed  before  a  dense 
crowd  streamed  towards  my  house,  and  the  lecture- 
room  was  full  to  suiFocation ;  many  stood  at  the 
windows,  in  the  corridor,  and  the  crowd  of  those 
who  could  not  gain  admittance  extended  even  far 
into  the  street.  It  was  long  before  I  could  make  my 
way  to  my  place.  I  had  not  yet  seen  my  wife  that 
day ;  my  father-in-law  and  his  daughter  lived  a  story 


PUBLIC  EXCITEMENT^  219 

above  us,  with  Yon  Ranmer ;  ray  mother-in-law  was 
with  us.  The  crowd  which  streamed  towards  our 
Louse  amazed  them,  but  I  think  they  must  have 
guessed  at  my  intentions.  My  wife  did  not  dare  to 
venture  forth,  but  I  sent  her  a  tranquillizing  message 
by  a  servant,  with  a  promise  to  explain  all  to  her  by 
and  by.  I  had  passed  the  two  hours  in  great  agita- 
tion :  what  I  had  to  say  —  the  burden  which  I  had 
groaned  under  for  ^\e  years  —  shook  my  whole 
soul ;  I  w^as  to  be  the  first  who  was  to  cry  aloud  that 
the  liberation  of  Germany,  yes,  of  all  Europe,  was 
at  hand.  I  sought  in  vain  to  arrange  my  feelings 
into  words,  but  I  fancied  that  good  spirits  w^ere 
whispering  help  to  me,  and  I  longed  for  the  time  of 
lonely  suspense  to  be  over.  One  thought  came 
clearly  to  my  mind — I  reproached  myself  that  I 
had  murmured  at  being  banished  to  a  remote  prov- 
ince, and  now  that  very  corner  had  become  the 
splendid  centre  whence  a  new  era  was  to  emanate, 
and  ray  voice  was  to  set  the  elements  in  motion. 
Tears  gushed  into  my  eyes.  A  short  prayer  tran- 
quillized me,  and  I  stood  before  the  assembly.  I 
know  not  what  I  said  ;  had  I  been  asked  at  the  mo- 
ment that  I  ended,  I  could  not  have  told  a  word.  I 
had  no  new  cause  to  proclaim  —  what  I  said  w\ns 
but  the  echo  of  the  thouglUs  anfl  feelings  of  every 
hearer.  That  after  calling  on  the  youth  to  rise,  I 
added  my  determination  to  take  my  part  and  join 
the  ranks,  may  well  be  guessed  without  my  telling  it. 
At  the  close  of  my  speech  1  hastened  to  tranquil- 
lize my  family ;  a  few  minutes  after  I  was  once  more 
alone  in  my  study.     It  is  done  at  last,  I  thought, 


220  THE  STORY   OF  MY  CAREER. 

and  a  load  was  taken  from  my  heart.  But  new  cares 
now  claimed  my  thoughts ;  from  that  hour  my 
whole  position  in  life  was  altered ;  arms  were  now 
my  profession,  and  how  was  I  to  follow  it  ?  I  had 
taken  counsel  with  nobody,  and  I  felt  wholly  at  a 
loss.  Suddenly  a  thought  struck  me  :  I  would  go  to 
Scharnhorst  —  he  would  guide  and  help  me  best.  I 
had  taken  my  hat,  when  a  deputation  from  the  stu- 
dents appeared :  they  begged  me  to  continue  my 
address  in  a  larger  hall,  and  named  one  which  would 
contain  live  or  six  hundred  hearers,  and  I  was 
obhged  to  assent.  I  longed  to  go,  but  could  not 
get  away,  the  students  thronged  in  so  continually. 
A  precious  hour  had  thus  elapsed,  when  Professor 
Augusti,  then  rector  of  the  university,  appeared ;  he 
had  some  important  communication  to  make  to  me 
in  private,  and,  uneasy  as  I  felt  at  the  request,  I  was 
very  glad  of  the  excuse  to  clear  my  room  of  stu- 
dents. I  was  on  the  best  of  terms  with  Augusti. 
He  said  in  a  solemn  way  that  he  came  from  the 
chancellor  of  state;  that  St.  Marsan,  the  French 
ambassador,  had  hastened  to  the  chancellor  directly 
on  hearing  of  my  address.  He  had  inquired  what 
it  meant.  "  We  are,"  said  he,  "  at  peace  with  you, 
and  look  upon  you  as  our  allies,  and  now  a  teacher 
in  the  university  (fares  to  declare  war  against  us,  as 
if  under  the  sanction  of  the  king."  Hardenberg 
had  answered,  "  The  feelings  of  the  people,  especial- 
ly the  youth  of  Prussia,  can  be  no  secret  to  you ; 
we  could  not  restrain  the  meeting  —  it  was  over  be- 
fore news  of  the  intention  reached  us  ;  the  king  dis- 
countenances it.    Ask  for  an  apology  and  it  shall  be 


SCHARNHORST.  221 

given ;  but  I  cannot  conceal  that  any  step  taken 
against  the  speaker  would  make  him  a  martyr,  and 
such  excitement  would  follow  as  would  make  our 
position  most  difficult." 

The  chancellor  communicated  to  me  through  the 
rector  that  he  had  heard  of  my  intention  of  resum- 
ing my  address  on  the  morrow.  He  did  not  desire 
me  to  refrain  from  expressing  any  of  my  own  opin- 
ions, but  entreated  me  not  to  mention  Napoleon's 
name.  By  a  sort  of  instinct  I  had  avoided  doing  so 
in  my  first  speech ;  I  had  feared  that  the  name 
might  give  an  air  of  personal  hatred  to  my  appeal, 
and  rob  it  of  the  elevated  tone  of  genuine  patriot- 
ism. My  friend  left  me,  and  I  hastened  to  Scharn- 
horst.  Colonel  von  Bayen,  now  minister  of  war, 
one  of  the  most  active  and  intelligent  of  our  confed- 
eration, was  already  there.  Scharnhorst  embraced 
me,  saying  with  joyful  emotion,  "StefFens,  you  do 
not  know  what  you  have  done."  I  desired  no 
greater  praise  ;  I  foresaw  that  I,  a  quiet,  retired  man 
of  letters,  in  the  middle  age  of  life,  would  make  but 
a  sorry  soldier,  but  that  to  the  war  I  must  proceed. 

I  had  only  lately  become  acquainted  with  Scharn- 
horst ;  he  was  not  an  officer  of  the  Prussian  parade 
style,  but  seemed  more  like  a  philosopher  in  uni- 
form. He  spoke  like  a  man  of  deep  thought,  fully 
imbued  with  his  subject,  which  was  always  one  of 
real  importance,  and  on  which  his  deliberately  ex- 
pressed sentiments  carried  an  irresistible  conviction  ; 
both  in  argument  and  action  he  persevered  in  his 
point  dispassionately,  but  with  determination. 

It  is  told  of  a  legate  who  was  sent  to  Paris  by 


222  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

the  Pope  to  transact  business  with  Napoleon,  that 
on  one  occasion  he  resisted  the  demands  so  obsti- 
nately as  to  make  the  Emperor  almost  despair  of 
carrying  his  point.  Napoleon  at  last  left  the  room 
in  high  displeasure,  and  having  ordered  the  legate 
to  remain  there  till  his  return,  shut  him  in,  and  did 
not  reappear  till  evening,  by  which  time  he  hoped 
that  weariness  and  hunger  would  have  induced  sub- 
mission. After  a  slight  excuse  fi'om  the  Emperor, 
and  a  desire  to  resume  the  conference,  the  priest, 
witliout  a  syllable  of  apology,  went  straight  forward 
"with  his  business  at  the  exact  point  at  which  it  had 
been  suspended.  That  was  exactly  the  mode  in 
which  Scharnhorst  always  proceeded ;  he  never 
flinched  in  anything  he  ever  undertook  against  Napo- 
leon, not  even  when  success  seemed  almost  hopeless. 
Few  were  acquainted  with  the  extent  of  Scharn- 
horst's  powers.  Invincible  in  purpose,  untiring  in 
action,  all  the  wisest  of  our  military  leaders  looked 
to  him  as  the  centre  of  their  movements.  To  this 
great  man  I  turned  in  the  most  exciting  instant  of 
my  life  for  guidance.  I  told  him  that  I  wished  to 
join  one  of  the  detachments  of  the  regular  arm}^ 
and  I  rejoiced  to  find  that  he  approved.  "  We  can," 
he  said,  "  place  you  at  once  at  head-quarters,  where 
you  may  find  work  in  which  your  former  jDrofession 
will  be  useful."  He  advised  me  to  learn  the  duties 
of  the  service,  as,  at  least  in  the  beginning  of  the 
war,  it  was  desirable  that  I  should  be  much  among 
the  young  volunteers  whose  minds  I  had  excited. 
He  also  advised  me  to  present  a  petition  to  the 
king,  praying  to  be  allowed  to  join  the  service  in 


THE  KINO'S  ANSWER,  223 

whatever  capacity  his  Majesty  might  please  to  ap- 
point. 

I  was  now  perfectly  at  ease  ;  my  sudden  impulse 
had  become  a  well-considered  line  of  conduct.  I 
forwarded  my  petition,  and  in  a  few  days  received 
the  following  gracious  answer :  — 

"I  afford  you  my  entire  approbation  that  you 
have  not  only  excited  the  attendants  on  your  lec- 
tures in  the  university  to  rise  in  their  country's  de- 
fence in  the  present  imminent  danger,  but  have  also 
devoted  yourself  to  the  same  praiseworthy  service. 
To  which  laudable  end  I  grant  you  leave  of  absence 
from  your  present  duties  until  circumstances  may 
permit  you  to  return  to  them ;  and  I  heartily  wish 
that  the  example  which  you  have  set  to  younger 
men,  of  devotion  to  their  country's  cause,  may  bo 
followed  to  the  happy  furtherance  of  the  same. 

"Frederick  Wilhelm. 

"Breslau,  February  IG,  1813." 

I  passed  the  days  which  intervened  before  I  re- 
ceived the  royal  answer  in  most  anxious  suspense. 
The  lectures  were  discontinued,  and  I  gave  myself 
up  to  wild  conjectures  as  to  my  future  destination. 
I  had  not  confided  to  my  wife  the  important  step 
which  I  had  taken,  and  I  had  told  no  one  but  my 
father-in-law,  who  fully  approved  of  all  that  I  had 
done.  I  was  beset  with  students  in  great  numbers, 
not  only  of  Breslau,  but  from  Berlin,  and  in  my 
state  of  uncertainty  their  eagerness  increased  my 
perplexity. 


224         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

On  the  20th  of  February  I  received  his  Majesty's 
letter  permitting  me  to  wear  officer's  uniform  and 
act  as  an  officer,  until  he  should  see  fit  to  promote 
me  to  the  rank  of  one. 

I  had  now  a  distinct  occupation.  Captain  von 
Bolkenstern,  my  sincere  friend,  commanded  my 
company,  and  as  a  preliminary  I  paid  a  sergeant  of 
the  company  to  teach  me  my  exercise.  A  rather 
laughable  incident  occurred  in  reference  to  my  dril- 
ling. As  every  vacant  space  was  required  to  exer- 
cise the  volunteers  as  well  as  the  regular  recruits, 
the  court  of  my  house  was  sometimes  used  for  the 
purpose.  An  old  woman  who  worked  occasionally 
in  the  family  happened  to  see  how  the  drilling  offi- 
cer sometimes  lost  his  patience  with  awkward 
youths,  —  how  he  seized  the  shoulders,  pressed  in 
the  backs  to  expand  the  chest,  poked  the  stomachs, 
and  stuck  a  doubled  fist  under  the  chin  to  throw 
the  head  up.  She  had  heard  that  I  too  was  learn- 
ing the  exercise,  and  burst  with  loud  wailings  into 
my  wife's  presence,  lamenting  that  I  should  have  to 
undergo  such  treatment.  My  lot,  however,  was  by 
no  means  so  bad ;  my  sergeant  was  very  polite, 
though  I  cannot  boast  of  being  a  handy  recruit. 

I  could  not,  however,  devote  much  time  to  these 
useful  elements  of  my  military  education.  I  found 
endless  and  perplexing  business  in  my  office.  A 
register  had  to  be  kept  of  every  volunteer,  specify- 
ing every  personal  particular.  Many  thousand  vol- 
unteers came  to  me,  and  some  generals  who  wanted 
volunteers  to  fill  their  detachments  honored  me 
with  visits.     I  had  besides  no  little  trouble  with  the 


VOLUNTEERS  AND   GOLD  LACE.  225 

young  men,  who  all  desired  to  join  the  guards,  and 
who  would  with  great  difficulty  be  persuaded  to  be- 
long to  other  corps. 

A  subject  of  dispute  arose  among  those  who  had 
attached  themselves  to  me.  The  young  volunteers 
in  other  guard  battalions  had  obtained  permission  to 
wear  silver  lace  on  the  collar  in  the  place  of  the 
white  woollen  which  was  worn  by  the  regular  men. 
The  guard-chasseur  company  wore  yellow  lace,  and 
the  volunteers  wished  to  be  allowed  to  have  it  in 
gold.  I  must  confess  it  was  inconceivable  to  me 
how  in  such  a  moment  of  national  enthusiasm  the 
very  weakest  amongst  the  young  men  could  think 
of  such  trifles ;  but  Bolkenstern  agreed  with  me  in 
the  propriety  of  decidely  refusing  the  pretension.  I 
looked  upon  it  as  one  of  the  most  useful  circumstan- 
ces of  the  times,  that  the  more  educated  classes 
should  mix  with  those  beneath  them  in  rank  and 
cultivation.  I  hoped  that  the  higher  influence 
would  gradually  improve  the  whole  army,  and  we 
determined  that  the  volunteers  of  the  guard-chas- 
seurs should  wear  the  woollen  lace,  and  in  all  re- 
spects throughout  the  war  be  on  an  equaUty  with 
the  common  soldier.  The  press  for  admission  was 
60  great  that  we  did  not  fear  to  have  our  ranks  un- 
filled ;  some  of  the  most  high-born  among  the 
youths  supported  our  views,  and  many  who  havo 
since  filled  exalted  stations  will  remember  the  dis- 
pute, and  how  warmly  they  declared  in  favor  of  our 
determination. 

The  Lutzow  corps  was  being  formed  at  the  same 
time  in  Breslau,  and  I  was  excited  to  friendly  emu- 

15 


226  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREEB. 

Intion  with  Jahn,  who  was  organizing  his  body  of 
vohinteers.  His  corps  vv^as  most  attractive  to  the 
youths  of  ardent  disposition  ;  the  very  spirit  of  chiv- 
alry seemed  to  expand  amongst  them ;  they  were 
the  poetry  of  the  war,  and  their  voice  found  noble 
utterance  in  Korner's  lyre. 

I  had  to  manage  for  the  clothing  of  the  volun- 
teers; the  funds  for  the  purpose  were  supplied  by 
the  voluntary  subscriptions  which  poured  in  from 
all  parts  of  Prussia.  It  is  well  known  how  bound- 
less was  the  emulation  to  outvie  each  other  in  splen- 
did contributions.  The  miser  offered  up  his  wor- 
shipped hoard ;  those  who  had  not  money  sold  their 
plate  and  jewels ;  and  many  an  anxious  mother  was 
seen  to  fit  out  and  send  to  the  war  the  son  whom 
she  had  scarcely  trusted  from  her  sight.  Common 
and  pitiful  feelings,  such  as  will  peep  out  to  disfig- 
ure society  in  ordinary  times,  then  scarcely  dared 
to  show  themselves ;  men  high  in  station  took  their 
place  beside  the  lowest;  superiors  seemed  willing  to 
receive  commands  from  those  below  them,  when 
they,  by  longer  service,  were  thought  more  capable ; 
the  difference  between  giver  and  receiver  seemed  to 
have  lost  its  former  meaning ;  and  truly  those  who 
witnessed  such  displays  of  national  virtue  after  a 
w^hole  century  of  peace-engendered  imperious  bully- 
ing, must  have  seen  that  which  seemed  either  a  mir- 
acle or  a  fairy  tale.  To  some  of  the  poorer  volun- 
teers money  had  been  given  to  provide  their  own 
outfits,  and  it  happened  sometimes  that  the  small 
amount  had  been  spent  in  drinking  success  to  the 
common  cause.     I  therefore  determined  henceforth 


VOLUNTEERS  PRESENTED  TO  THE  KING.         227 

to  give  nothing  but  uniforms  and  military  accoutre- 
ments. Workmen  were  employed  night  and  day, 
and  the  commander  of  our  battalion,  Gen.  von  Ja- 
gow,  ])roposed  to  me  to  equip  with  utmost  speed  fif- 
ty of  tlie  linest  young  men  and  present  them  to  the 
king.  The  suggestion  was  complied  with,  though  I 
would  rather  have  avoided  the  display,  in  a  wonder- 
fully short  time,  and  we  received  the  royal  permis- 
sion to  attend.  The  king  received  us  in  his  palace. 
Amongst  the  volunteers  were  the  poet  BUrde  and 
his  three  sons,  all  fine,  tall  men,  who  stood  far  above 
all  the  rest.  Burde  had  been  secretary  to  Count 
von  Haugwitz,  and  was  not  unknown  to  the  king. 
The  chief  of  the  battalion  alone  was  present ;  I  was 
in  civil  costume,  my  uniform  not  being  completed. 
The  king  received  this  first  presentation  of  Prussian 
volunteers  very  graciously,  and  expressed  himself  to 
me  in  terms  which  I  shall  never  forget.  The  audi- 
ence was  soon  talked  of,  and  as  I  did  not  return  to 
my  own  house  immediately,  I  found  my  door  on  my 
arrival  there  beset  with  carriasces  —  it  was  men  of 
consequence  and  generals,  who  came  to  congratu- 
late me. 

At  length  my  transformation  was  to  take  place, 
and  the  pi-ocess  was  by  no  means  a  pleasant  one, 
bordei'ing  on  the  comic.  The  grave  philosopher 
was  to  be  changed  into  the  raw  second  lieutenant. 
The  little  accomplishments  which  in  youth  ffre  at- 
tained almost  imperceptibly  and  are  practised  with 
ease  were  hard  of  attainment  at  my  more  advanced 
period  of  life ;  even  the  difference  between  my  right 
hand  and  my  left  required  reflection  to  remember, 


228  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

and  the  perception  arrived  always  top  late.  I  hoped 
that  time  and  practice  might  remedy  this  deficiency, 
but  it  clung  to  me  to  the  last.  I  began  and  ended 
the  clumsiest  second  lieutenant  in  the  whole  Prus- 
sian army. 

Throughout  all  this  preparation  the  alliance  with 
Russia  and  the  war  with  Xapoleon  were  still  unde- 
clared. At  lencjth  Baron  von  Stein  arrived  in  Bres- 
lau  with  the  news  that  Scharnhorst  had  met  the 
Emperor  Alexander  at  Kalish,  and  had  there,  on 
the  twenty-seventh  of  February,  concluded  a  treaty 
with  Russia ;  but  it  was  not  until  the  sixteenth  of 
March,  almost  six  weeks  after  the  royal  command 
to  take  arms,  that  this  treaty  was  communicated  by 
Hardenberg  to  St.  Marsan. 

The  Emperor  Alexander's  approaching  arrival  was 
announced,  and  the  troops  were  ordered  to  line  the 
streets  for  his  reception.  On  this  occasion  I  was  on 
duty  for  the  first  time  in  my  country's  service.  At 
four  in  the  morning  the  detachment  was  paraded 
and  marched  to  the  suburb  through  which  the  Em- 
peror was  to  enter.  He  was  expected  early  in  the 
morning;  we  waited  in  vain  ;  the  forenoon  passed; 
we  were  all  tired  and  hungry.  Couriers  brought 
news  at  last  that  the  Emperor  was  still  so  distant 
that  we  might  leave  guard  for  half  an  hour.  It  was 
almost  dark  before  he  arrived.  He  was  received 
with*acclamations  by  the  inhabitants;  but  the  en- 
thusiasm would  have  been  livelier  had  not  every- 
body been  worn  out  by  hunger  and  impatient  wait- 
ing.    Thus  was  I  introduced  to  those  minor  duties 


COMMENCEMENT  OF  ACTIVE  SERVICE.  229 

of  the  service  which  are  little  calculated  to  excite  or 
support  the  spirits. 

War  was  declared  in  Paris  through  the  ambassa- 
dor. General  von  York's  demonstration  was  praised 
by  the  king,  and  became  the  universal  theme  of  ad- 
miration. All  the  youth  of  Prussia  were  emulated 
by  his  example,  when  a  most  discouraging  report 
arose.  It  was  said  that  the  enthusiastic  love  of  lib- 
erty among  the  volunteer  corps  was  disapproved  in 
high  quarters  ;  it  was  considered  extremely  danger- 
ous, and  was  to  be  restrained.  They  were  not  to 
act  against  Xapoleon,  but  to  be  sent  to  Poland, 
where  disturbances  were  expected,  to  protect  the 
rear  of  the  army.  The  exasperation  may  be  con- 
ceived of  young  minds  panting  to  be  led  against  a 
hated  foe,  threatened,  instead,  to  be  used  as  a  police 
force  to  coerce  a  people  in  whose  cause  they  sym- 
pathized. Such  intentions,  however,  if  really  formed, 
were  not  acted  upon. 

Our  detachment  was  sent  forward  to  Lissa.  Bolk- 
enstern  and  I  were  quartered  in  the  fort,  and  my  mil- 
itary life  commenced.  A  grand  review  took  place  of 
the  united  corps  of  Blucher  and  Wittgenstein  ;  it 
was  my  second  public  appearance  as  a  Prussian  offi- 
cer. Bolkenstern  worked  very  hard  at  teaching  me 
to  perform  a  salute.  "When  you  are  opposite  the 
king,"  he  said,  "you  must  step  forward  with  the— -- 
(I  never  can  remember  whether  it  was  the  right  or 
the  left) — foot  and  lower  your  sabre,"  and  many 
more  minute  directions  which  I  have  forgotten. 
They  were  ray  undoing;  for  when  the  moment 
came  I  was  absorbed  in  thinking  over  my  lesson, 


230         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

and  ray  salute  was  so  sad  a  bungle  that  Bolken- 
stern  overwhelmed  me  with  reproaches.  Hapj3ily  I 
had  no  more  such  ceremonies  to  perform,  for,  be- 
sides my  inexpertness,  my  whole  equipment  was  far 
from  being  a  model  of  military  perfection.  The 
guard-chasseur  uniform  was  very  expensive,  and 
consequently  the  gold  epaulette  did  not  grace  my 
shoulder,  nor  was  the  schako,  adorned  with  the 
black  eagle,  and  the  rich  scart^  ever  added. 

The  painful  parting  with  my  family  had  passed, 
and  we  moved  on  towards  the  enem}^  who  came  to 
meet  us  Avith  a  rapidity  which,  after  so  disastrous  a 
defeat,  was  truly  admirable. 

During  our  tedious  delay  in  Lissa,  and  our  march 
through  Silesia  and  the  Lausitz  towards  Dresden, 
we  were  enlivened  by  meeting  Tettenborn's  divis- 
ion, advancing  towards  Hamburg,  and  Dornberg's 
towards  Luneburg.  I  found  Stein  and  Moritz  Arndt 
in  Dresden,  where  I  remained  a  few  days,  relieved 
from  the  annoyances  of  military  duty.  It  was  my 
first  personal  introduction  to  the  great  German.  I 
broke  a  lance  with  him,  and  my  weapon  was  one 
which  I  knew  better  how  to  use  than  those  which  I 
had  so  lately  assumed  —  it  was  a  friendly  strife,  but 
an  earnest  one. 

Stein  was  a  man  of  deeds,  not  words,  straightfor- 
ward in  action.  He  grasped  and  mastered  every 
difficulty  at  the  moment  it  arose,  and  he  hated  or 
pretended  to  hate  speculation,  and  attacked  me  as  a 
theorist.  I  was  dining  with  him  one  day  when  only 
Moritz  Arndt  was  present.  "Your  propositions," 
said  he,  "  are  mere  subtleties  —  bare  dogmas,  calcu- 


STEIN.  231 

lated  only  to  cripple  every  enterprising  deed."  "If," 
said  I,  "ray  speculations  bad  not  taken  a  practical 
turn,  I  should  not  have  the  honor  to  appear  before 
you  equipped  as  I  now  am ;  but  the  desire  to  realize 
all  that  is  felt  within,  or  apprehended  by  the  senses, 
not  according  to  outward  semblance,  but  to  the  true 
spiritual  import,  is  not  the  arbitrary  whim  of  this 
person  or  of  that,  it  is  the  moving-spring  of  the  mind 
of  Germany,  and  through  this  it  is  that  my  friend 
Schelling  has  so  influenced  the  national  character." 
"Yes,"  answered  Stein,  "I  know  well  that  the  Ger- 
man youth  are  intoxicated  with  these  vain  theories ; 
Germans  have  an  unfortunate  love  for  subtle  reason- 
ing, hence  they  neglect  tangible  good,  and  are  the 
prey  of  every  cunning  enemy."  "Your  excellency," 
I  said,  "the  German  youth  has  risen  in  vnst  masses, 
yet  many  still  hold  back,  and  among  those  who  do 
60,  I  will  venture  to  assert,  not  one  of  the  intoxi- 
cated theorists  is  to  be  found.  Who  has  more 
effectually  incited  the  people  to  rouse  and  arm 
than  our  two  great  masters  of  speculative  philoso- 
phy, Fichte  and  Schleiermacher  ?  Your  excellency's 
time  is  too  precious  to  be  spent  on  subtleties  which 
seem  unpractical,  but  to  me  nothing  seems  more 
impractical  than  to  overlook  a  principle  which  you 
confess  has  become  an  element  of  the  national 
mind." 

I  was  almost  frightened  at  my  boldness.  Stein 
grumbled  rather  angrily  at  first,  but  said  smilingly 
afterwards,  "  Well,  I  am  only  an  unpractical  theori- 
zer  myself,  wasting  time  in  useless  speculations  on 
the  views  of  others." 


232  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Mutual  jealousies  arose  between  the  regular  troops 
and  the  volunteers,  whose  unbridled  ardor  gave 
great  offence.  Many  of  those  brought  up  in  strict 
military  discipline  feared  that  the  volunteer  spirit 
would  be  a  self-destructive  element  in  the  army,  and 
held  it  their  duty  to  keep  it  in  continual  check. 
Major  von  Z.,  who  after  Jagow's  departure  became 
chief  of  our  battalion,  had  been  General  von  York's 
adjutant  during  the  Russian  campaign,  and  was 
highly  esteemed  by  him.  He  was  notwithstanding 
one  of  those  who  thought  the  volunteers  ought  to 
be  kept  under,  and  he  expressed  his  conviction  not 
only  when  I  had  the  honor  of  being  his  guest,  but 
openly  before  the  whole  detachment.  My  unfortu- 
nate awliwardness,  which  was  incomprehensible  to 
him,  called  forth  endless  reflections  upon  useless, 
clumsy  philosophers.  On  such  occasions  my  posi- 
tion was  not  very  flattering  in  the  presence  of  my 
former  disciples,  among  whom  I  was  now  the  most 
stupid  of  the  scholars ;  they  supported  me,  howev- 
er, on  every  occasion,  and  never  failed  to  let  me  feel 
that  they  still  remembered  our  former  very  different 
relation  to  each  other. 

Once  in  a  village,  the  name  of  which  has  escaped 
my  memory,  a  general  advance  was  ordered.  I 
was  among  the  first  who,  after  a  hasty  equipment, 
joined  the  major  at  the  rendezvous,  and  was  ordered 
to  march  with  a  small  party  in  a  certain  direction 
before  the  village,  in  order  to  act  as  promptly  as 
might  be  required  on  the  approach  of  the  enemy. 
I  received  no  more  particular  orders.  I  ventured  to 
inquire  in   which   direction   the    enemy's   appioach 


STEFFENS'S  BECONNOITERJNO  EXPEDITION.   233 

might  be  expected.  "That  you  must  find  out,"  said 
the  major,  and  I  undertook  the  duty  with  much  anxie- 
ty. I  was  utterly  deficient  in  military  experience,  and 
was,  as  my  friend  Schall  once  called  me  in  a  poem, 
only  a  natural  born  soldier.  I  went  with  my  small 
party  in  the  appointed  direction,  judged  as  well  as  I 
could  from  very  uncertain  reports  of  the  probable 
direction  of  the  enemy,  and  posted  two  men  on  an 
eminence  to  reconnoitre,  and  behind  them  an  ad- 
vanced post,  —  whether  they  were  too  fiir  off  or  too 
near  I  w^as  wholly  ignorant.  The  major  came  to 
review  my  position,  and  a  storm  then  fell  upon  my 
unhappy  head,  which  convinced  me  that  I  should 
not  be  able  to  continue  that  line  of  service.  I  was 
treated  a^  the  most  incomparably  stupid  of  human 
beings,  the  reproaches  being  varied  by  lively  sallies 
On  the  uselessness  of  bookworms ;  in  the  course  of 
these  I  was  made  answerable  for  all  the  trashy  pam- 
phlets of  miserable  authors  which  had  been  pub- 
lished since  the  subjugation  of  Prussia.  "Where* 
did  you  look  for  the  enemy?"  "There,"  I  said, 
^answering  to  the  reports."  "You  should  have  ex- 
pected them  on  the  other  side,  —  you  ought  to  have 
known  better."  A  large  portion  of  the  detachment 
were  witness  of  this  scene,  including  a  number  of 
my  Breslau  students.  I  had,  as  my  rank  required, 
received  it  all  in  silence,  but  later  on  the  same  day 
I  waited  on  the  major ;  he  was  more  civil  than  be- 
fore, and  I  sought  neither  to  excuse  myself  nor 
complain  of  him,  but  represented  that  my  posi- 
tion in  regard  to  many  in  the  detachment  made  it 
desirable   for  me  to  be  appointed  elsewhere,  and 


234  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREEJR, 

that,  as  General  Scharnhorst  had  only  intended  mo 
to  be  in  it  for  a  time,  my  removal  would  save  the 
mnjor  the  unpleasant  duty  of  correcting  me  in  the 
jDresence  of  my  own  pupils. 

It  was  then  late  in  April,  and  we  were  approach- 
ing Altenburg,  where  General  Blucher  had  his  head- 
quarters. With  Bolkenstern's  consent  I  joined 
them.  Scharnhorst  presented  me  to  Blucher,  who 
wished  me  to  remain  unattached,  and  all  was  ar- 
ranged, even  to  my  being  provided  with  a  horse, 
which  Scharnhorst  kindly  undertook  for  me. 

I  found  Gneisenau  as  commandant  of  head-quar- 
ters, and  Colonel  von  Muffling.  The  little  town  of 
Altenburg  was  in  great  excitement.  The  refugee 
king  of  Sweden,  under  the  name  of  Colonel  Gus- 
tavson,  had  lately  arrived,  and  occasioned  no  small 
perplexity  to  the  Prussian  generals.  It  was  very 
desirable  to  win  over  the  then  crown  prince,  Berna- 
dotte,  to  join  us,  and  it  was  plain  that  the  exiled 
king  hoped  in  secret  to  strengthen  his  own  cause  by 
the  aid  of  Blucher  and  his  generals,  while  he  natu- 
rally expected  that  they  would  entertain  no  great 
partiality  for  the  former  French  commander. 

In  the  present  important  conjuncture,  however, 
his  absence  was  greatly  to  be  desired,  and  that  opin- 
ion was  hardly  concealed  from  him.  I  saw  the  thin, 
slender-looking  king,  one  day,  with  liis  long,  fair 
face,  and  the  peculiar  features  of  the  ancient  royal 
family  strongly  marked,  standing  at  the  door  of  a 
post-house.  He  wished  to  depart,  and  asked  for 
horses ;  all  were  under  requisition.  It  was  perhaps 
right  to  refuse  them  without  orders,  but  a  stable-boy 


BLUCHER.  235 

did  so  in  the  most  offensive  manner,  and  I  had  the 
distress  of  seeing  an  anointed  king,  the  descend- 
ant of  Griistavus  Vasa  and  of  that  Gustavus  Adol- 
plius  whose  memory  should  be  sacred  in  Germany, 
ill-treated  by  a  menial.  The  king —  for  he  had  nev- 
er ceased  to  be  one  in  my  eyes  —  made  no  reply ; 
he  turned  away;  and  though  his  history  inspired 
me  with  more  pity  than  respect,  I  thought  there 
was  something  truly  royal  in  his  demeanor.  I  was 
with  Colonel  von  Gerlach  ;  we  both  saluted  him  as 
he  passed,  and  he  received  the  compliment  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  and  answered  it  with  most  kingly  dig- 
nity. 

Blucher  was  quartered  at  the  Hotel  Stadt  Gotha. 
When  I  first  joined  the  table  there  he  was  absent, 
with  many  of  his  officers.  The  Freemasons  held  a 
great  meeting  at  Altenhurg,  and  Blucher  was  the 
grand-master.  His  love  for  speech-making  made 
the  societv  attractive  to  him,  and  it  is  said  that  he 
obtained  his  remarkable  facility  in  speaking  at  the 
Freemasons'  lodcce.  He  came  to  the  hotel  before 
the  dinner  ended,  and  the  conversation  seemed  to 
indicate  that  the  war  was  about  to  begin  in  earnest, 
and  that  an  engagement  was  expected.  News  was 
repeated  that  the  enemy  were  advancing  from  vari- 
ous quarters.  Councils  of  war  were  held,  and  I  en- 
joyed the  excitement  of  feeling  myself  in  the  very 
centre  of  important  operations  ;  my  only  perplexity 
w^as  to  wonder  what  sort  of  active  service  I  could 
possibly  perform. 

One  thing  seemed  certain,  — that  I  was  to  remain 
for  the  whole  of  the  war  at  Bliicher's  head-quarters. 


236         THE  STORY   OF  MY  CAREER, 

It  is  most  difficult  to  give  a  true  description  of  that 
wonderful  mran,  whose  memory  will  live  as  long  as 
the  records  of  tlie  war  itself;  he  has  been  so  often 
sketched  that  it  is  hard  for  many  to  divest  the  per- 
sonal idea  of  Ijim  of  many  trifles  unworthy  of  his 
greatness.  His  life,  written  by  our  great  biogra- 
pher, Varnhagen  von  Ense,  is  universally  read,  and 
deserves  to  be  so. 

Blucher  might  be  called  a  phenomenon  (Incor- 
recte  Erscheinung)  ;  there  was  a  want  of  keeping  in 
the  parts  of  his  character;  yet  this  very  eccentricity 
produced  his  greatness.  In  him  all  that  was  strange 
and  incompatible  in  that  wonderful  war  was  repre- 
sented ;  therefore  it  was  as  easy  for  his  admirers  to 
throw  all  other  heroes  in  comi:>arison  with  him  into 
the  shade,  as  for  his  dispraisers  to  describe  him  as  a 
mere  phantom.  The  severe  moralist  will  find  much 
in  him  to  censure,  yet  he  was  the  very  centre  of  the 
moral  impulse  of  the  war.  Compared  Avith  Napo- 
leon, who  invented  a  new  system  of  military  tactics, 
he  cannot  be  called  a  great  commander,  yet  in  that 
character  he  won  immortal  fame.  His  speech  was 
bold,  like  a  rough,  uncultivated  soldier,  yet  some- 
times it  rose  to  such  a  pitch  of  eloquence  as  had 
been  heard  from  no  military  hero  of  modern  times ; 
he  obeyed  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  but  the  im- 
pulse was  deep  as  it  was  quick ;  his  perceptioi^  was 
so  vivid  that  he  would  see  every  difficulty  in  an  in- 
stant and  be  dashed  into  despair;  a  few  more  in- 
stants and  he  would  grasp  the  means  of  action,  and 
i^isten  on  his  object  with  redoubled  energy.  That 
object  was  Napoleon's  downfall.    His  hatred  to  the 


GERMAN  ACTION,  237 

tyrant  mingled  with  the  canviction  that  he  was 
born  to  work  his  ruin,  and  he  pursued  his  purpose 
as  if  led  by  an  unerring  instinct.  He  was  a  striking 
contrast  to  Napoleon.  Napoleon  studied  all  the 
phases  of  the  revolution,  and  worked  tliem  out  to 
the  uses  of  his  ambition,  and  he  knew  how  to  influ- 
ence every  ripple  of  the  mighty  stream  which  was 
to  wash  away  the  last  traces  of  nationality.  Blu- 
cher  stood  forth,  a  mighty  nature,  bearing  the  fire  of 
youth  in  an  aged  but  iron  frame,  destined  to  de- 
nounce the  nothingness  of  the  deepest  scheming 
which  was  ever  known  in  history. 

The  broken  divisions  of  the  beaten  French  army 
had  to  pass  through  a  land  inflamed  with  detesta- 
tion, in  order  to  join  their  reinforcements  in  their 
own  territory.  We  must  not  deny  the  enemy  full 
praise  for  the  admirable  tact  and  determination 
which  thoy  displayed  under  a  calamity  great  enough 
to  have  overpowered  an  army  of  heroes.  On  their 
retreat  a  sort  of  preliminary  war  took  place,  which, 
compared  with  the  great  struggle  in  which  all  Eu- 
rope was  engaged,  might  be  called  an  affair  of  out- 
posts. The  German  legions,  combined  with  the 
Russians,  took  advantage  of  the  unfortunate  position 
of  the  French  retiring  foi'ces,  and  won  successes 
which,  at  the  time,  were  important.  Dornberg's 
bold  seizure  of  Liineburg,  and  Tettenborn's  occupa- 
tion of  the  French  city  of  Hamburg,  were  inspirit- 
ing incidents,  raising  the  hopes  of  Germany,  as  did 
the  first  great  overt  act  of  General  von  York  at 
Konigsberg.  These  triumphs  had  their  value,  but  it 
was  easy  to  perceive  that  the  advantages  could  not 


238         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAHEER. 

be  supported,  and  it  is  too  well  known  how  dearly 
they  Avere  paid  for  in  both  cities,  especially  in  Ham- 
burg. In  the  mean  time  the  masses  were  collect- 
ing which  Avere  to  decide  tlie  tremendous  contest. 
France  felt  that  she  had  to  light  for  her  existence, 
and  the  magical  word,  "the  glory  of  the  Great  Na- 
tion," was  as  yet  an  unbroken  spell.  INTapoleon  was 
still  to  the  French  people  their  great  leader,  the 
conqueror  of  Europe,  and  the  arming  nations  were 
rebels  to  his  sway.  Nature  had  for  once  joined  to 
withstand  him,  and  had  triumphed  for  a  moment ; 
deprived,  of  her  aid,  the  resisting  armies  were  again 
but  the  assemblage  of  so  many  easily  to  be  re-con- 
quered provinces.  Holland,  Belgium,  Italy  and  the 
south  of  Germany  still  obeyed  Napoleon,  and  trem- 
bled at  the  power  of  his  name ;  Westphalia  was  yet 
nominally  French,  though  she  was  united  in  heart 
to  us ;  while  Austria,  though  wavering,  was  still  in 
alliance  with  France.  Many  discouraging  circum- 
stances hung  over  the  united  enterprise  of  Russia 
and  Prussia.  A  mighty  imjiulse,  it  is  true,  had 
called  up  a  Prussian  army  with  a  truly  wonderful 
celerity,  but  the  organization  was  by  no  means  com- 
2:)lete,  and  time  must  elapse  before  any  great  force 
could  be  expected  from  Russia,  distant  as  that  coun- 
try was,  and  exhausted  by  her  late  resistance. 

This,  then,  was  the  state  of  Europe  at  the  time 
when  the  new  French  army,  issuing  from  their  fron- 
tier, met  the  weakened  forces  returning  from  their 
Russian  campaign ;  when  a  large  division  under 
General  Wittgenstein,  in  conjunction  with  Blucher, 
prepared  to  meet  the  concentrated  force  of  France. 


STEFFENS  A  STAFF  OFFICER,  239 

In  regard  to  my  personal  position  I  can  only 
lament  that  I  was  as  little  qualified  to  be  one  of 
Bluclier's  staff  as  I  bad  been  for  a  second  lieutenant. 
I  was  devoid  of  tecbnical  knowledge,  and  tbougb 
all  were  kind  to  me,  eacb  bad  too  many  duties  of 
bis  own  to  find  time  to  enligbten  my  unbappy  state 
of  ignorance.  My  records  of  tbe  campaign  will 
tberefore  be  wbolly  deficient  in  military  detail,  and 
the  reader  will  be  less  disappointed  if  be  will  per- 
mit me  to  call  tbem,  not  a  bistory  of  tbe  war,  but 
sketcbes  of  my  adventures  on  tbe  road  to  Paris  dur- 
ing tbe  campaigns  of  1813  and  1814. 


CHAPTER   X, 

BTEFFENS'S  MILITARY  CAREER. — MT  FIRST  SIGHT  OF 
WAR  — '*MY  KINGDOM  FOR  A  HORSE  "—•  GNEISENAU'S  COURAGE 
AT  GROSS-GORSCHEN  --  SCHARXHORST  MORTALLY  WOUNDED  — 
BATTLE  OF  LEIPZIG  --  STEFFENS'S  RESIGNATION  AND  RETURN 
TO    BRESLAU. 

Blucher  had  quitted  Altenburg,  and  we  all  ex- 
pected a  general  engagement.  Late  in  the  evening 
of  the  first  of  May,  I  sat  in  lonely  expectation  in  a 
small  cottage.  Though  much  excited  by  the  pros- 
pect of  a  battle,  my  spirits  were  anything  but  elated, 
and  I  must  confess  that  some  personal  considerations 
helped  to  keep  them  down.  I  had,  it  is  true,  been 
removed  from  a  painful  position,  yet  my  present 
was  unpleasantly  dubious.  Scharnhorst  had  not 
found  time  to  give  me  any  orders,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  was  without  the  power  of  inde- 
pendent action,  and  yet  found  myself  in  a  moment 
of  general  preparation  not  only  without  any  ap- 
pointed duty  to  perform,  but  doubtful,  were  I  to 
be  employed,  whether  I  should  aid  or  impede  the 
cause.  There  was  something  cruelly  humiliating 
in  my  situation,  and  the  more  enthusiastically  I 
liad  anticipated  the  approaching  contest,  which  had 
been  the  longing  desire  of  so  many  years,  the  more 
wretched  did  I  feel.  I  was  pacing  my  little  room 
with  restless  steps,  when  the  sound  of  a  galloping 

210 


•  *' MY  KINGDOM  FOR  A  nORSEy  241 

horse's  feet  stopped  suddenly  at  my  door.  The 
rider  threw  himself  off,  and  gave  me  a  letter  from 
Scharnhorst.  "  Here  at  last  are  my  orders ;  now 
have  I  a  place  and  part  in  the  important  day."  I 
tore  it  open,  and  read  as  follows :  — 

"Dear  Steffens: — I  am  sorry  to  be  obliged  to  beg 
you  to  send  me  back  the  horse  which  I  lent  you.  I 
lament  that  you  will  thus  be  prevented  from  appear- 
ing on  the  field  of  battle.  It  is  the  animal  which  I 
always  ride  on  great  occasions ;  and  I  fear  that  you 
will  be  obliged  to  remain  in  the  rear  to  await,  as  I 
trust,  the  victorious  issue  of  the  day." 

I  gave  up  the  horse,  and  now  I  was  in  despair. 
If  I  were  absent  from  the  field  I  felt  that  I  should 
be  disgraced,  and  incapable  of  service  for  the  rest 
of  the  campaign.  I  had  heard  the  name  of  the  vil- 
lage where  the  garde-chasseur  battalion  was  posted. 
I  set  off,  and  by  walking  a  mile  joined  it  at  last, 
though,  having  had  some  difficulty  in  finding  a 
guide,  it  was  nearly  morning  before  I  reached  it. 
I  called  up  the  chief  of  the  battalion,  and  begged 
him  to  put  me  in  the  way  of  obtaining  a  horse.  I 
was  conducted  to  a  countryman,  who  at  first  stoutly 
resisted  my  demand,  but  at  length  produced  one.  It 
was  a  yellow  chestnut,  old,  half-starved  cart-horse ; 
his  ribs  might  be  counted,  and  his  hips  stood  up  like 
the  sharp  sides  of  a  rock.  I  climbed  up  to  the  mis- 
erable saddle,  evidently  the  peasant's  own  manufac- 
ture, and  after  much  effort  the  poor  animal  got  its 
limbs  set  in  motion.  It  was  obstinate,  and  its  mouth 
16 


242  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER.  • 

was  as  hard  as  iron.  No  Prussian  horseman  ever 
cut  so  strange  a  figure.  The  knapsack  which  the 
guide  had  carried  was  fastened  behind,  and  it  was 
long  before  I  got  the  clumsy  beast  into  a  trot. 
Which  way  to  look  for  the  field  of  battle  I  knew 
not ;  but  as  the  day  began  to  dawn  I  thought  I  per- 
ceived troops  in  the  distance,  though  I  was  quite 
ignorant  whether  they  were  friend  or  foe.  I  rode 
forward,  however,  till  I  reached  a  large,  open,  grad- 
ually sloping  field.  Here  I  found  a  large  body  of 
Prussian  infantry  formed  into  line.  How  it  took 
place  I  cannot  tell,  but  suddenly  I  found  my  horse 
and  myself  in  the  very  front,  hindering  the  advance. 
An  officer  of  rank,  who  must  have  been  greatly  as- 
tonished at  the  singular  apparition,  came  up  with 

angry  looks,  exclaiming,  "  What  the  d are  you 

doing  here  ?  "  General  von  York  had  been  pointed 
out  to  me  in  Altenburg.  I  recognized  him  with 
dismay,  while  I  made  a  desperate  but  for  some  time 
unavailing  effort  to  induce  my  charger  to  retire  from 
his  position.  I  have  but  a  confused  impression  of 
how  I  got  out  of  the  scrape.  I  only  remember  the 
sound  of  the  general's  scornful  reproof  When  I 
subsequently  became  well  acquainted  with  him,  and 
related  the  history  of  the  disaster,  he  was  highly 
entertained.  After  many  inquiries  and  much  riding 
backwards  and  forwards,  I  found  Scharnhorst.  He 
told  me  to  remain  near  him,  and  ordered  one  of  his 
adjutants  to  mount  me  on  a  baggage-horse.  It  was 
nearly  noon,  and  the  engagement  began  ;  but  I  had 
no  idea  whatever  of  the  position  either  of  our  force 
or  the  enemy's.     Cannonading  was  heard  all  round, 


BATTLE  OF  GROSS-QORSCHEN.  243 

and  the  enemy  seemed  to  be  behind  Gross-Gorschen, 
but  I  could  not  perceive  them. 

I  rode  together  with  Gneisenau  and  the  officers 
surrounding  Bliicher.  The  enemy  stood  before  the 
houses  of  the  village.  A  charge  of  cavalry  was 
made  on  our  side,  and  I  suddenly  found  myself  in 
the  midst  of  a  shower  of  balls.  Prince  Wilhelm's 
horse  was  shot  dead  under  him.  The  charge  was 
repulsed.  Of  how  I  got  into  the  midst  of  it  and  how 
I  got  out  again  I  can  give  no  account  whatever ; 
only  two  things  remained  clear  on  my  recollection. 
One  was  the  sensation  caused  by  the  enemy's  grape- 
shot.  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  the  balls  came  in  thick 
masses  on  every  side  —  as  if  I  was  in  a  heavy  shower 
of  rain  without  getting  wet.  Yet  I  cannot  say  that 
I  was  exactly  overcome  with  fear ;  the  impression 
was  more  strange  and  peculiar  than  alarming.  The 
second  object  which  distinctly  impressed  me  was 
Prince  William.  He  was  then  about  thirty  years 
of  age,  handsome  in  person,  with  the  undaunted 
air  which  belonged  to  his  royal  race;  and  he  was 
mounted  on  a  splendid  charger,  which  he  managed 
perfectly.  As  he  rode,  smiling  and  composed,  amidst 
the  shower  of  balls,  he  seemed  to  me  like  a  fair  vis- 
ion which  I  shall  never  forget.  Gneisenau  seemed 
quite  joyfully  in  his  element.  Immediately  after 
the  attack  he  gave  me  a  message  to  General  Witt- 
genstein ;  and  now  began  my  darker  part  of  the  day. 
I  rode  forward,  and  looked  about.  That  the  battle 
was  still  raging  near  Gross-Gorschen  was  proved  by 
the  tremendous  cannonade  of  the  enemy.  I  had 
no  idea  where  to  find  Wittgenstein.    Everything 


244  THE  STOUT  OF  MY  CAREER. 

round  me  seemed  confused,  and  as  if  I  was  covered 
with  a  veil.  I  felt  a  tottering,  a  swimming,  which 
sprang  from  my  inmost  soul,  and  increased  every 
moment.  I  was  plainly  seized  with  a  panic  —  the 
cannon  fever.  I  found  Wittgenstein  notwithstand- 
ing, and  delivered  my  message ;  and  as  I  returned  I 
met  a  detachment  of  my  own  volunteers,  who  as 
yet  had  taken  no  part  in  the  engagement,  but  ex- 
pected orders  every  instant  to  advance.  I  described 
to  them  under  all  the  excitement  of  the  moment 
exactly  what  I  had  seen  and  experienced.  The 
young  men  listened  with  thirsting  curiosity.  It  is 
well  known  how  they  distinguished  themselves  that 
day  by  their  daring  valor.  When  I  rejoined  Gnei- 
senau  all  was  in  active  engagement,  every  man 
knowing  his  duty  and  working  hard  in  his  appointed 
place.  Nobody  of  course  troubled  themselves  about 
me,  and  the  feeling  of  my  inability  overwhelmed 
me,  whilst  I  was  obliged  to  stand  there  a  mere 
useless  looker-on.  I  perceived  Scharnhorst  carried 
wounded  away.  I  had  lost  sight  of  Gneisenau.  I 
was  surrounded  by  strangers,  and  I  found  myself 
at  last  alone,  with  the  enemy's  balls  howling  around 
me. 

There  are  several  sorts  of  courage,  as  well  as  rea- 
sons for  its  failure.  I  was  on  the  battle-field  for  the 
first  time,  not  only  without  any  distinct  duty,  but 
contrary  to  the  orders  of  my  commanding  ofiicer. 
To  the  consciousness  of  this  I  attribute  the  uncon- 
trollable panic  which  seized  me ;  yet  I  never  enter- 
tained an  idea  of  retiring  from  the  scene ;  such  a 
possibility  did  not  once  occur  to  me,  and  I  managed 


COOLNESS  OF  GNEISENAU,  245 

to  collect  my  senses  so  as  to  observe  what  passed 
for  the  space  of  two  hours.  Sometimes  the  fight  in 
and  about  Gross-Gorschen  came  nearer  to  me,  and  I 
saw  the  Prussian  cavahy  exposed  to  the  fire  from 
the  guns.  I  saw  how  their  ranks  thinned,  and  how, 
as  here  one  and  there  another  was  unhorsed,  with 
frightful  wounds,  the  rest  quietly  closed  up  and 
filled  the  spaces.  At  length  I  found  myself  late  in 
the  evening  again  with  Gneisenau,  and  close  to  the 
village.  He,  who  must  have  noticed  ray  agitation, 
was  himself  perfectly  calm  and  cheerful,  notwith- 
Btanding  that  the  issue  of  the  day  was  still  uncertain. 
"Steffens,"  said  he,  turning  to  me,  "is  not  that  a 
grand  cannonade  ?  it  is  to  celebrate  your  birthday." 
He  had  passed  the  last  anniversary  with  me  in  my 
house ;  that  he  should  remember  and  joke  upon  it 
at  such  a  moment  struck  me  as  wonderful.  As  it 
became  dark  I  joined  Mnjor  von  Schutz  at  a  bivouac 
fire,  and  there  heard  of  the  advance  of  our  cavalry, 
which  attempted  a  charge  against  the  enemy.  That 
charge  failed  ;  and  although  we  maintained  posses- 
sion of  the  field  from  which  the  enemy  had  with- 
drawn, it  was  determined  that  we  should  retire 
towards  Pegau.  I  rode  in  the  dark  by  the  side  of 
Schutz  to  the  edge  of  a  rather  steep  declivity  by 
which  our  troops  were  marching  in  slow  and  perfect 
order,  while  other  detachments  were  reposing  by 
the  bivouac  fires,  which  lighted  up  the  trees.  The 
impression  of  such  a  scene,  w^hich  afterwards  be- 
came familiar  to  me,  was  at  first  very  striking.  We 
reached  the  little  town  in  the  middle  of  the  night ; 
it  was  crammed  with  troops,  but  we  got  a  tolerable 


246  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

lodging,  and  through  intelligent  officers  who  had 
been  in  the  engagement  I  got  some  general  insight 
into  the  events  of  the  day  and  their  results.  This 
was  most  welcome ;  for  hitherto  all  was  mystery 
and  confusion  to  my  understanding.  The  object 
of  the  great  contest,  as  it  had  engrossed  me  for  so 
long,  again  rose  clearly  to  my  perception,  and  I  felt 
convinced  that  I  should  not  meet  a  second  battle  as 
I  had  done  the  first. 

In  spite  of  our  retreat  we  looked  on  the  affair  as 
a  success,  for  the  troops  had  stood  bravely  against 
N^apoleon,  and  a  most  valianl  spirit  pervaded  the 
whole  army.  Satisfied  with  our  position,  and  recon- 
ciled with  myself,  I  slept. 

On  the  third  of  May  I  joined  Bliicher  in  Borna, 
and  found  the  troops  in  regular  march,  all  in  close 
order,  as  if  going  to  meet  an  enemy ;  nothing  be- 
trayed the  appearance  of  a  retreat.  Bliicher  had 
received  a  slight  wound,  but  was  in  high  spirits. 
Prince  William  was  with  him,  and  remembered  that 
he  had  seen  me  early  in  the  fight,  and  I  received 
compliments  which  were  far  from  being  due  to  me, 
and  which  made  me  feel  ashamed,  though  I  trusted 
and  believed  that,  had  I  been  in  the  performance  of 
some  active  duty,  I  should  have  found  my  courage 
much  more  manageable  than  it  had  been  in  my  idle 
position. 

For  the  first  days  the  retreat  was  continued  over 
a  sandy  level.  Bliicher  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
troops  as  they  proceeded  leisurely.  The  army  was 
in  such  perfect  order  that  many  considered  the  re- 
treat an  unnecessary  disgrace,  and  as  this  opinion 


BLU CHER'S  ADDRESS.  247 

was  rather  boldly  expressed,  it  came  to  Bliicher's 
ears,  who  thought  it  necessary  to  address  the  troops 
about  it.  This  was  my  first  opportunity  of  admiring 
his  astonishing  eloquence.  The  substance  of  the 
speech  is  generally  known,  for  it  was  published  to 
appease  the  whole  army,  as  well  as  to  tranquillize 
the  people.  "You  are  right,"  I  heard  him  say,  "you 
are  not  beaten  —  you  kept  the  field,  and  the  enemy 
withdrew ;  their  loss  was  greater  than  yours."  And 
he  then  explained  to  them  all  his  motives  for  not 
pushing  on  the  battle,  as  well  as  those  for  retiring. 
I  heard  him  repeat  the  same  to  various  divisions  as 
they  came  up ;  and  while  I  praise  the  facility  anc^ 
noble  simplicity  of  his  expression,  as  well  as  the 
power  of  giving  the  same  meaning  in  so  many 
various  forms,  as  often  as  he  had  to  repeat  it,  I 
must  confess  there  was  something  besides  the  words 
which  gave  such  effect  to  the  address,  and  that  much 
was  owing  to  the  appearance  and  manner  of  the 
aged  but  powerful-looking  man. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  the  16th  of  October  I 
found  myself  at  head-quarters  near  the  village  of 
Lindenthal.  The  day  was  bright  and  mild  ;  it  is  re- 
markable that  every  engagement  in  which  I  have 
been  present  has  taken  place  in  the  finest  weather. 
Behind  us  lay  a  wood,  before  us  an  extensive  plain. 
The  enemy  were  posted  towards  Mockern,  on  which 
point  we  were  advancing.  The  battle  began,  and 
we  were  already  under  a  hot  fire,  when  Gneisenau 
dispatched  me  to  seek  out  the  crown  prince  of 
Sweden,  who  held  himself  in  the  rear  somewhere 
near  Halle,  and  entreat  him  to  advance  without  de- 


248  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

lay  with  his  Swedes.  I  had  much  trouble  in  finding 
him ;  no  one  knew  his  exact  position,  and  it  was  not 
till  night  that  I  made  him  out  at  Landsberg,  in  mis- 
erable quarters,  surrounded  by  Swedish  officers.  He 
lay  on  a  mattress  spread  on  the  floor  of  a  desolate, 
nearly  empty  room  ;  the  dark  Gascon  face,  with  the 
prominent  nose  and  the  retiring  chin,  was  sharply 
relieved  against  the  white  bed-clothes  and  the  laced 
nightcap.  Gneisenau  had  explained  to  me  fully  the 
positions  of  both  armies,  and  how  the  enemy,  con- 
sisting of  the  choicest  troops  and  the  Imperial 
Guard,  headed  by  Napoleon  in  person,  were  pressed 
back  by  us  on  Mockern,  where  the  chief  contest 
would  take  place.  The  crown  prince  listened  atten- 
tively whilst  I  explained  all  this  in  my  own  lan- 
guage and  his  adjutant  translated  it  to  him.  He 
then  sat  up  in  bed  and  made  a  very  long  speech, 
which  concluded  with  a  promise  to  march  directly 
with  his  troops,  and  he  dismissed  me.  Only  half  of 
Gncisenau's  commission,  however,  was  fulfilled.  I 
had  orders  to  mix  among  the  Swedish  soldiers,  for 
he  reckoned  on  my  being  able  to  make  some  im- 
pression on  them  through  my  native  language.  An 
opinion  prevailed  at  head-quarters  that  the  crown 
prince  had  no  great  liking  to  take  part  in  a  battle 
which  threatened  a  signal  overthrow  to  his  own 
countrymen,  and  Gneisenau  thought  that  I  might 
rouse  the  ardor  of  the  troops.  I  was  to  remind 
them  of  their  great  king  Gustavus  Adolphus,  and 
of  his  glorious  battle  of  Leipzig,  and  to  urge  that 
on  the  same  field  the  fate  of  Germany  was  now  to 
be  decided,  under  our  generals,  as  it  had  been  then 


APPEAL   TO   THE  SWEDES.  249 

under  their  great  hero.  I  held  all  possible  converse 
during  the  night  with  both  men  and  officers,  when 
I  found  that  the  order  to  march  had  preceded 
me.  Many  were  already  moving  off,  but  some  offi- 
cers remained  indolently  looking  on  when  all  was 
ready,  waiting  for  further  orders.  Talking  with 
these,  I  perceived  that  the  war  had  no  national  in- 
terest for  the  Swedes  ;  they  could  not  see  why  they 
should  be  pressed  into  a  struggle  in  which  they 
were  quite  unconcerned,  their  country  not  being  in 
danger;  the  sacrifice  was  too  hard  upon  the  poor 
Swedes ;  besides,  the  small  force  they  could  pro- 
duce would  be  lost  among  the  mass  of  nations  now 
armed  against  Napoleon.  I  tried  to  persuade  them 
that  the  renown  of  their  leader  would  influence  and 
strengthen  the  whole  allied  army.  I  cannot  praise 
myself  for  this  part  of  my  argument ;  I  spoke  it 
against  my  own  conviction ;  my  German  feelings 
gave  the  proud  lie  to  this  acknowledgment  of  supe- 
riority in  a  Frenchman ;  indeed,  we  always  held  that 
the  victorv  at  Dennewitz  was  due  alone  to  General 
Bulow.  Nor  had  I  much  to  boast  of  in  the  way  of 
impression  made  upon  the  Swedes  ;  the  elements  of 
heroism  were  not  in  them,  and  my  declamations  on 
the  scene  of  the  approaching  battle,  and  the  great 
deeds  there  performed  by  their  Gustavus  Adolphus, 
did  not  help  the  cause  much,  for  it  had  of  late  be- 
come rather  the  fashion  in  Sweden  to  disparage  the 
merits  of  that  hero. 

Towards  noon,  however,  the  Swedish  troops  were 
all  on  the  march,  and  as  I  learned  that  this  was  to 
be  a  day  of  rest,  I  gave  my  exhausted  horse  some 


250         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

refreshment.  It  was  dusk  when  I  perceived  the 
Prussian  troops  on  a  height  near  Mockern.  I  learnt 
then  the  issue  of  the  engagement,  which  had  been 
the  fiercest  of  the  whole  campaign.  It  was  usual 
with  Gen.  von  York  to  be  irresolute  before  he  deter- 
mined on  an  attack ;  once  resolved,  he  ventured  every- 
thing. The  struggle  before  Mockern  had  been  with 
Napoleon  himself  and  his  finest  troops ;  he  had  of- 
fered battle  ;  the  victory  was  long  doubtful ;  all  the 
first  engaged  fell ;  new  troops  were  continually 
brought  up,  and  the  final  triumph  was  won  by  the 
reserve  corps. 

I  found  a  party  of  the  small  remnant  of  Yon 
York's  division  in  a  state  of  great  depression.  Eve- 
ning prayers  were  being  jead ;  glorious  as  had  been 
the  victory,  the  dreadful  loss  filled  every  heart  with 
sadness.  It  was  there  that,  face  to  face  with  Napo- 
leon, the  Prussians  had  thirsted  to  redeem  the  shame 
of  former  times,  and  had  rushed  madly  on  the  ene- 
my. The  account  of  the  battle  of  Mockern  as  giv- 
en from  head-quarters  was  singularly  short ;  it  was 
contained  in  a  few  lines,  and  the  heroism  displayed, 
and  the  important  consequences  which  promised  to 
result  from  it,  were  scarcely  noticed.  On  the  sec- 
ond day,  between  that  and  the  great  battle  of  Leip- 
zig, an  attack  of  cavalry  took  place  under  General 
Wassiltschikof,  which  was  duly  praised.  It  was 
plainly  intended  to  pass  slightly  over  the  Prussian 
exploits  and  to  bring  forward  those  of  the  allied 
Russians  as  much  as  possible.  I  inquired  the  way 
to  Bliicher's  head-quarters,  and  rode  towards  it  in 
the  dusk  over  the  field.    After  a  few  steps  my  horse 


FIELD  EXPERIENCES,  251 

reared,  I  could  not  tell  why ;  my  servant  alighted 
and  found  a  corpse  in  the  way.  I  had  to  cross  the 
field  of  battle,  and  could  scarcely  get  on,  the  bodies 
lay  so  thick ;  my  horse,  obliged  to  face  it,  left  off 
shying  after  a  time,  and  I  only  perceived  that  I  was 
passing  one  of  the  slain  by  his  quietly  turning  out 
of  the  way.  I  saw  bivouac  fires  before  me,  but  in 
the  oppression  of  the  scene  I  had  forgotten  my  di- 
rection, and  I  doubted  whether  they  belonged  to 
our  own  troops  or  the  enemy's;  still  I  rode  tow- 
ards the  fires ;  living  men,  whether  friends  or  foes, 
were  welcome.  I  reached  a  wide  road  and  recoe:- 
nized  the  Russians.  Naked  men  appeared  by  the 
bivouac  fires,  who  looked  like  giants  against  the  bril- 
liant light ;  they  were  engaged  in  a  curious  process 
of  purification,  —  they  had  taken  off  their  shirts  to 
pass  them  rapidly  over  the  flames.  I  approached 
one  to  inquire  where  I  should  find  Blucher ;  he  did 
not  understand,  but,  cheered  by  the  sound  of 
voices,  I  rode  on.  I  had  passed  the  Russian  fires 
and  had  been  called  to  by  a  guard,  whom  I  answered 
without  taking  much  notice,  when  I  heard  a  voice 
behind  me,  and  understood  the  question,  "Where 
are  you  going  ?  "  I  turned  round  and  learnt  that  in 
a  few  more  steps  I  should  have  heard  the  "qui 
vive  ?  "  It  was  late  at  night ;  our  horses  were  quite 
tired  out,  myself  the  same  ;  so  I  thankfully  accept- 
ed the  invitation  of  a  Russian  artillery  ofiicer  to 
pass  the  night  in  his  company.  The  party  were 
gathered  round  a  gnn.  Hunger  made  a  slight  meal 
very  acceptable,  and  though  we  heard  skirmishings 
at  the  outposts  we  fell  quietly  to  sleep. 


252  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

At  early  dawn  we  received  a  morning  salutation 
from  the  enemy  in  the  form  of  some  cannon-balls, 
which  flew  in  high  arches  over  our  heads.  The  ter- 
rors of  the  evening,  with  the  wild  dreams  of  the 
night,  vanished  before  the  coming  day,  and  the  re- 
membrance of  the  great  stake  which  that  day  was 
to  decide  met  me  in  all  its  power.  Soldiers  stretched 
at  length  round  the  fires  were  lying  all  round  me, 
and  as  I  proceeded  I  found  thena  collecting  more 
and  more  into  groups,  preparing  for  the  expected 
b^fttle. 

Blucher's  head-quarters  were  in  the  village  of 
Mockern  ;  all  were  yet  sleeping  when  I  got  there. 
It  would  convey  a  false  idea  of  the  scene  in  Blu- 
cher's vicinity  were  it  to  be  supposed  that  anything 
like  haste  or  confusion  was  to  be  perceived  there. 
Though  so  great  a  battle  was  certain  to  be  fought, 
though  all  felt  that  on  its  issue  the  fate  of  the  whole 
war  depended,  there  was  yet  no  trace  of  any  such 
important  crisis  near  the  great  commander.  Every 
ofiicer  rose  and  dressed  himself  leisurely  and  care- 
fully ;  the  few  washing  utensils  at  command  were 
taken  to  the  wells,  and  when  used  by  some  were  in- 
stantly claimed  by  the  servants  of  others  to  be  re- 
plenished. The  windows  were  opened  and  laid  back 
on  the  walls,  to  serve  for  looking-glasses.  Coffee 
was  brought  in ;  some  drank  from  the  cups  and 
some  from  the  saucers.  Any  little  difficulty  or  acci- 
dent was  seized  on  to  give  a  cheerful  turn  to  the  re- 
marks, but  these  were  never  extended  to  the  great 
event  which  was  impending ;  they  spoke  on  indiffer- 
ent subjects,  even  of  gay  recollections,  and  a  joke 


THE  ''NATION'S  BATTLE."  253 

was  seized  on  and  passed  round  with  thankful  ea- 
gerness. To  a  superficial  observer  they  might  have 
seemed  like  men  who  were  preparing  to  pursue  a 
journey,  and  were  amusing  themselves  with  the  lit- 
tle miseries  of  an  uncomfortable  night's  lodging. 

On  that  day  we  did  not  move  out  very  early. 
Bliicher  had  joined  himself  to  General  Langeron's 
division,  and  we  found  these  preparing  to  pass  the 
Parthe.  On  the  other  side  of  that  river  the  ground 
rises ;  th^e  a  wonderful  spectacle  presented  itself. 

Over  the  long,  distant  line  of  rising  ground  we 
beheld  the  French  army  in  movement,  and  it  soon 
covered  the  whole  range  of  hills.  It  was  the  multi- 
tude bound  to  the  man  who  had  subdued  the  conti- 
nent and  ruled  it  so  long  by  the  terror  of  his  name, 
now  led  by  him  to  battle.  The  columns  continued 
to  emerge  from  the  eastern  horizon  ;  infantry,  caval- 
ry, and  artillery  glided  along  in  order,  and  now  and 
then  the  arms  glanced  in  the  newly-risen  sunbeams. 
The  whole  army  seemed  like  a  mighty  vision  in  a 
dream ;  fresh  hosts  continued  to  rise  in  the  east ; 
still  they  continued  to  vanish  from  our  sight  far  to 
the  west,  as  the  great  unbroken  mass  moved  on  and 
on.  We  stood  long  in  breathless  amazement ;  then  it 
was  that  Muffling  gave  the  name  to  the  approaching 
fight — he  called  it  the  great  "Nations'  battle"  (Vol- 
kerschlacht)  ;  the  name  now  belongs  to  history.  We 
were  posted  on  a  plain  many  miles  in  extent ;  troops 
were  round  us  in  every  direction.  General  von 
York  was  fighting  before  Leipzig  with  the  remains 
of  his  valiant  corps.  All  around  we  heard  the  roar 
of  fierce  engagement,  but  we  saw  nothing,  and  re- 


254  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

mained  there  stationary  the  greater  part  of  the  day ; 
while  adjutants,  who  were  constantly  sent  to  the 
different  corps,  brought  us  back,  every  few  minutes, 
reports  of  the  progress  of  the  fight  from  every  point. 
More  than  300,000  men  were  brought  by  the  allies 
into  the  field;  170,000  fought  against  us.  Our 
ground,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  large,  open  plain. 
Leipzig  lay  just  before  us  in  the  distance.  It  was  a 
strange  day  to  me,  passed  in  such  perfect  rest  in  the 
very  centre  of  a  great  battle ;  but  the  biurs  flew 
rapidly,  the  constant  arrival  of  news  kept  us  in 
such  intense  excitement.  We  heard  that  at  Mock- 
ern  the  enemy  had  attacked  Bliicher's  division,  con- 
sidering it  justly  as  the  centre  point  of  the  great 
moral  strength  of  our  whole  army.  Napoleon  him- 
self led  on  the  attack ;  he  believed  that  any  advan- 
tage gained  over  the  most  renowned  of  his  enemies 
would  help  to  subdue  the  spirits  of  the  whole  host. 
He  then  brought  a  half-dispirited  army  to  meet  an 
immensely  superior  force,  yet  his  great  mind  had  still 
power  to  animate  his  troops ;  he  knew  the  greatness 
of  the  stake.  His  soldiers  fought  as  daringly  as  if 
sure  of  victory.  I  must  pay  the  homage  of  admira- 
tion to  a  hero  who  made  his  effort  for  existence  with 
such  daring  courage. 

This  battle  also  was  fought  under  a  brilliant  sky. 
One  of  the  scenes  of  that  eventful  day  was  strik- 
ing. We  discerned  a  large  body  of  cavalry  advance 
from  the  enemy's  lines  in  perfect  ord^r.  There 
were  no  troops  immediately  near  the  point  they  ad- 
vanced upon,  and  we  waited  quietly  for  their  com- 
ing up ;  no  doubt  Bliicher  was  advised  of  their  in- 


BATTLE  OF  LEIPZIG,  255 

tentions.  They  proved  to  be  the  Saxon  cavalry, 
who  had  left  the  enemy  and  come  over  to  us.  They 
stood  looking  resolved,  but,  as  I  thought,  humbled 
before  us.  The  commander  came  forward  and  ap- 
proached Bliicher,  who  received  him  with  dignity. 
The  Saxon  officer  stated  that  they  had  long  waited 
for  the  moment  when  they  might  free  themselves 
from  the  compulsion  of  bearing  arms  against  their 
countrymen ;  it  had  come  at  length.  Yet  they 
craved  one  indulgence  :  they  wished  not  to  fight  in 
that  battle.  Their  unhappy  king  was  in  Leipzig,  in 
a  house  in  the  great  market-place,  which  would  soon 
be  in  our  power.  Bliicher  addressed  them  briefly, 
but  very  kindly,  granted  their  request,  and  appoint- 
ed them  a  position  behind  the  army.  I  felt  for 
them  as  they  marched  by ;  I  imagined  all  the  dis- 
tress of  their  position.  But  all  the  events  of  that 
day,  from  the  first,  when  the  great  host  passed  be- 
fore my  wondering  sight,  up  to  that  last  scene, 
seemed  like  a  splendid  act  in  a  Shakspearian  drama, 
suddenly  grown  into  a  living  truth. 

Till  now  I  had  taken  no  part  in  the  active  duties 
of  the  day.  Bliicher,  having  dispatched  all  the  rest 
of  his  staff,  turned  to  me  at  last.  "Mr.  Professor," 
he  said,  "go  instantly  to  General  Langeron,  take 
him  orders  to  storm  that  village ;  he  must  expect  no 
help  by  reinforcement,  but  the  enemy  must  be  dis- 
lodged immediately."  I  hastened  off;  there  was  no 
doubt  of  the  direction  I  was  to  take.  Langeron  had 
been  long  disputing  Schonfeld;  he  had%een  several 
times  in  possession  of  it,  and  the  enemy  had  retaken 
it  as  often,  and  the  flames  of  the  burning  village 


256  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

showed  me  the  way.  I  found  him  amongst  the  out- 
ermost houses ;  he  was  a  stern-looking  man  with  a 
commanding  person.  The  enemy  was  again  master 
of  the  greater  part  of  the  place.  Surrounded  by 
fires,  the  Russians  were  still  fighting  obstinately ;  it 
was  a  strange,  exciting  scene,  friend  and  foe  in  fierce 
contest,  lighted  up  by  the  raging  flames.  I  deliv- 
ered my  orders.  The  general  answered  despond- 
ingly,  "My  men  have  fought  for  many  hours,  their 
numbers  are  thinned,  they  are  tired  and  exhausted. 
I  cannot  withstand  the  enemy  without  support."  I 
was  compelled  to  tell  him  that  he  must  expect  no 
aid,  and  that  the  orders  to  take  the  place  were  per- 
emptory. He  reflected  for  one  moment,  and  then 
gave  the  word  of  command  for  storming.  Every 
man  who  was  not  at  that  moment  actually  engaged 
sprang  forward  from  all  sides  instantly ;  the  storm- 
ing party  rushed  onwards  with  a  loud  cry ;  the  en- 
emy could  not  stand  against  it,  and,  the  fortune 
of  the  day  turning  everywhere  against  them,  they 
abandoned  the  village  to  the  conquerors.  I  took 
part  with  the  general  in  this  attack,  and  when  the 
village  was  in  our  power  and  the  enemy  in  full  re- 
treat, I  hastened  back  with  the  news  to  Bliicher. 
At  last  I  had  been  engaged.  I  had  been  a  real 
sharer  in  the  dangers  of  the  day ;  but  my  duty  had 
been  so  circumscribed,  the  moment  of  attack  was  so 
exciting,  the  struggle  so  short  and  decisive,  that  I 
had  not  been  conscious  of  the  danger  till  it  was  past. 
When  I  reti#ned  with  the  report  to  Bliicher,  he  was 
already  fully  aware  of  the  result ;  he  had  known  it, 
in  fact,  sooner  than  Langeron  himself,  since  from  a 


DEATH  OF  A  FRIEXD.  257 

distance  he  had  been  able  earlier  to  distinguish  the 
retreating  movement  of  the  enemy. 

I  was  again  at  our  central  position,  at  that  point 
of  rest  where  we  had  remained  throughout  the  day. 
Accounts  now  came  in  thicker  of  the  general  and 
glorious  result  of  the  contest.  Evening  was  coming 
on,  and  we  left  our  post  and  advanced  slowly  to- 
wards Leipzig.  Suddenly  a  loud  cry,  as  from  thou- 
sands of  voices,  resounded  in  the  air ;  news  came 
that  our  troops  were  pressing  into  the  suburbs,  and 
that  the  enemy  were  still  defending  themselves  des- 
perately in  the  streets  and  gardens.  We  galloped 
forward  and  were  soon  up  with  our  fighting  troops. 

I  received  orders  to  join  General  Wassilschikof, 
who  was  appointed,  with  his  cavalry,  to  pursue  the 
flying  enemy.  I  left  the  horrible  distraction  of  the 
general  fight  and  slaughter  in  the  suburbs,  and  rode, 
as  directed,  to  Skeuditz.  I  found  that  place  full  of 
Russian  troops  which  had  taken  part  in  the  day's 
conflict,  and  I  was  deafened,  by  certain  German- 
speaking  Russian  oflacers,  with  histories  of  particular 
feats  and  combats.  I  was  told  there  tliat  a  young 
Dane  had  fallen  fighting  valiantly,  and  learned  with 
surprise  and  sorrow  that  his  name  Avas  Oersted  ;  he 
was  the  third  and  youngest  brother  of  my  celebra- 
ted countrvman.  I  could  not  doubt  that  it  was 
my  friend,  though  I  little  expected  to  hear  of  him 
among  the  Russian  army.  His  death  was  sad  news 
to  me.  It  was  a  strange  transition  in  my  feelings, 
strained  as  they  had  been  to  the  highest  pitch  by 
national  events  of  overwhelming  interest,  and  thua 
suddenly  thrown  back  into  the  closer  and  dearer 

17 


258  THE  BTOJtY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

circle  of  private  sympathy ;  thoughts  sprang  quickly 
up  of  quiet  days  gone  by,  of  rest,  and  home,  and 
friendship,  all  in  painful  contrast  with  the  turmoil  of 
the  scene  around  me. 

We  received  news  of  the  flight  of  the  enemy. 
Wassilschikof  moved  on  early  next  morning  from 
Skeuditz  towards  Markranstadt,  and  passed  the 
night  between  the  nineteenth  and  twentieth  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Liitzen.  Between  that  place  and 
Weissenfels  we  came  up  with  the  last  of  the  retiring 
army,  and  were  then  for  the  first  time  aware  of  the 
almost  inconceivable  results  of  the  victory  of  Leip- 
zig. I  there  witnessed  wliat  quite  consoled  me  for 
having  been  obliged  to  join  the  Russians,  —  the 
extraw-dinary  eflectiveness  of  the  Cossacks  in  har- 
assing the  rear  of  a  flying  army.  The  road  to 
Weissenfels  lies  over  a  wide  plain.  We  saw  the 
last  of  the  French  troops  before  us ;  though  in  hasty 
flight,  they  kept  tolerably  good  order.  It  was  rather 
a  misty  morning,  and  there  was  nothing  to  be  seen 
between  us  and  the  retreating  enemy;  all  at  once 
we  perceived  Cossacks  in  every  direction,  singly, 
or  by  twos  or  threes.  In  an  instant  they  were  joined 
into  a  troop,  in  another  they  were  down  upon  the 
enemy.  These  consisted  of  the  faint  and  weary, 
who  were  not  able  to  keep  up  with  the  rest.  The 
Cossacks  rushed  in  between  them  and  the  main 
body,  and  they  were  instantaneously  surrounded 
and  cut  off  from  it.  The  rear-guard  paused  a,  mo- 
ment, turned,  formed  front  without  advancing,  and 
began  a  rather  brisk  fire ;  but  the  distance  was 
too  great  for  it  to  reach  us.     The  Cossacks  and 


RETREAT  OF  THE  FRENCH.  259 

their  prisoners  had  disappeared,  as  if  by  magic ; 
only  here  and  there  we  could  distinguish  a  single 
Cossack  keeping  watch  upon  the  enemy.  The  re- 
treating guard  dared  not  linger  for  another  fire; 
they  turned  their  backs  on  us  again  and  proceeded. 
This  scene  was  often  repeated  —  the  sudden  appear- 
ance of  the  Cossacks;  the  cutting  off  the  lingering 
troops ;  the  guard  provoked  to  defend  them,  finding 
by  the  time  they  had  faced  us  no  object  to  receive 
their  fire  —  was  acted  over  and  over  again  ;  and  in 
the  short  distance  between  Liitzen  and  VYeissenfels 
General  Wassilschikof  took  in  this  way  two  thou- 
sand prisoners,  without  any  real  skirmish  taking 
place. 

The  fugitives  hurried  forward,  and  when  we 
reached  the  suburbs  of  Weissenfels  we  found  the 
town  occupied  by  the  French ;  we  saw  them  in  the 
act  of  passing  the  Saale  by  a  bridge  of  boats.  Blii- 
cher  and  his  staff  appeared  at  this  moment.  I  joined 
him,  and  we  mounted  the  heights  behind  the  town, 
which  run  parallel  with  the  river.  The  enemy  liad 
just  time  to  withdraw  their  floating-bridge,  and  they 
drew  up  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  opposite 
to  us. 

We  gave  them  a  heavy  cannonade  from  our 
heights.  The  mist  cleared  off;  the  bridge  of  boats 
which  was  constructed  on  our  side  soon  reached 
across  the  stream,  and  the  enemy,  who  then  took  to 
flight  in  great  disorder,  could  not  hinder  our  troops 
from  landing.  T^iis  was  not  the  only  affair  during 
tlie  pursuit.  They  were  constantly  attacked,  and 
fled  faster  and  faster;  and,  as  we  followed  them 


260  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

from  Weissenfels  to  Freiberg,  we  witnessed  fearful 
traces  of  the  general  consternation.  I  shall  never 
forget  the  sight.  Weapons  thrown  away  to  lighten 
their  speed ;  guns,  ammunition-wagons,  carriages 
of  all  descriptions,  even  some  handsome  travelling 
equipages,  —  plainly  abandoned  because  the  tired 
horses  could  no  longer  draw  them,  —  remained  in 
close  confusion,  not  only  on  the  road,  but  in  the 
fields,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  in  the  direction 
of  the  flight.  The  way  Avas  often  quite  impassable, 
and  we  had  to  make  considerable  circuits  to  get  on. 
The  enemy  themselves  had  entirely  disappeared,  at 
least  I  saw  not  one. 

When  we  reached  Freiberg  we  learnt  that  Napo- 
leon had  remained  there  some  hours ;  it  was  said 
that  he  had  been  seen  at  a  window,  his  head  resting 
on  his  arm  in  silent  despair.  Berthier  sat  opposite 
to  him  in  a  similar  state.  Neither  spoke,  and  offi- 
cers who  entered  were  silently  ordered,  by  a  wave 
of  the  hand,  to  leave  the  room.  The  inhabitants 
were  full  of  anecdotes  to  prove  the  desponding  state 
of  the  flying  foe. 

Under  the  idea  that  Napoleon  would  try  to  main- 
tain a  position,  if  only  for  a  short  time,  at  Erfurt, 
Blucher  abandoned  the  immediate  pursuit  in  order 
to  cross  over  by  Langensalza  towards  Eisenach,  and 
so  intercept  him.  This  proved  a  mistake.  Napo- 
leon's loss  at  Leipzig  had  been  so  great  that  he 
could  not  feel  safe  till  he  reached  the  other  side  of 
the  Rhine.  We  made  continual  marches,  tedious 
from  their  uniformity.  That  part  of  the  route  be- 
tween Eisenach  and  Fulda  was  remarkable  as  dis- 


PHASES  OF  MILITARY  LIFE.  261 

playing  frightful  traces  of  the  defeat  which  the 
enemy  had  suffered.  The  rapidity  of  their  flight 
had  completely  exhausted  the  greater  part  of  the 
army.  We  saw  at  first  single  Frenchmen  lying 
among  the  bushes ;  as  we  proceeded  the  number 
of  the  exhausted,  dying  sufferers  increased,  and  we 
found  large  groups  of  dead  and  dying.  It  was  pain- 
ful to  me  to  observe  that  they  looked  upon  it  as 
a  greater  evil  to  be  discovered  by  us,  though  we 
offered  them  assistance,  than  to  be  left  to  perish 
with  hunger  and  exhaustion  amongst  the  under- 
wood. I  confess  I  wished  myself  away  from  the 
horrid  scene;  it  was  more  terrible  to  me  than  the 
violence  of  the  fiercest  battle. 

Many  letters  fell  into  our  hands  of  French  cor- 
respondence,  as  well  as  some  from  Germans  to  the 
French  ;  they  sometimes  furnished  us  with  useful 
intelligence,  but  oftener  related  to  private  histories. 
Not  a  few  tales  of  scandal  came  thus  to  light ;  and 
we  read  the  tender  sorrows  of  German  ladies  whose 
French  lovers  were  compelled  to  depart  to  meet 
the  dangers  of  the  war.  I  felt  ashamed  at  the  way 
these  disgraceful  liaisons  were  paraded  for  the  gen- 
eral amusement.  Another  booty  fell  into  our  hands 
which  entertained  us  —  a  great  number  of  West- 
phalian  orders,  which  had  been  sent  to  decorate 
the  brave  victors  in  expected  fields  of  glory.  The 
conquerors  had  vanished,  and  the  symbols  of  their 
triumphs  fell  to  our  share ;  as  for  the  kingdom  of 
Westphalia,  we  regarded  it  as  a  gifct  which  was 
already  laid. 

When  the-  Emperor  Napoleon  abdicated  and  was 


262  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

sent  to  Elba,  I  petitioned  the  king  to  grant  me  my 
release  from  military  service ;  and  as  soon  as  the 
first  credible  reports  of  Napoleon's  dethronement 
became  general,  I  sent  for  a  tailor  to  make  my  outer 
man  myself  again.  I  can  hardly  describe  my  sense 
of  freedom  when  I  put  off  my  uniform  ;  the  long- 
worn  dress  was  hateful  to  me,  however  I  may  have 
been  honored  in  the  right  to  wear  it.  All  my  linen 
was  sent  to  a  swimming-bath  in  the  Seine,  and  I  felt 
as  if  I  were  born  again. 
My  petition  received  the  following  answer :  — 

"  Since  it  appears  to  me  that  you  will  now  more 
effectually  serve  the  state  by  returning  to  your  sci- 
entific appointment  than  by  continuing  longer  in 
your  present  position  in  the  army,  I  grant  your 
petition  to  be  released  from  military  service,  and 
together  with  this  discharge  I  join  my  assurance 
that  I  acknowledge  with  thanks  the  patriotic  self- 
sacrifice  with  which  you  laudably  preceded  your 
fellow-citizens  in  the  hour  of  danger. 

"Frederick  Wilhelm. 

"H.  Q.,  Paris,  May  5th,  1814." 

Blucher  with  some  of  his  officers  was  preparing 
to  go  to  London,  and  he  proposed  to  me  to  accom- 
pany him.  I  was  truly  grieved  to  be  obliged  to  de- 
cline this  most  kind  offer.  My  circumstances  would 
not  permit  the  great  expense  which  I  must  have 
incurred  to  Ifllve  appeared  in  the  midst  of  mil- 
itary splendor  in  that  luxurious  city.  I  therefore 
parted  from  Blucher,  Gneisenau,  and  .all  the  kind 


RETURN   TO  ACADEMIC  LIFE,  263 

friends  who  surrounded  them.  As  I  took  leave  of 
them,  the  events  which  I  had  seen  in  the  company 
of  those  great  men  swept  before  my  thoughts  in 
all  their  historical  importance,  and  I  was  deeply 
affected. 

At  my  request  the  minister  of  state  had  supplied 
me  with  a  courier  passport  and  sum  of  money  to 
defray  my  journey.  I  might  have  returned  with  the 
army,  but  my  earnest  longing  to  rejoin  my  family, 
and  resume  my  quiet  academic  duties,  increased 
daily,  and  prompted  me  to  determine  on  an  imme- 
diate departure.  I  must  not  omit  to  record  my  last 
dilemma.  My  passport  had  been  made  out  to  "  The 
Second  Lieutenant  and  Professor  Dr.  Steffens."  I 
protested  against  the  arrangement  of  these  titles.  I 
represented  that  I  "must  stand  by  my  real  profession, 
and  not  that  which  I  had  only  provisionally  followed. 
I  asked  my  kind  friend  who  made  out  the  passport 
whether,  supposing  the  title  of  second  lieutenant  to 
be  superior,  I  could  in  future  designate  myself  Mr. 
Second  Lieutenant  without  disparaging  my  aca- 
demic office.  After  much  discussion  on  the  point,  I 
made  a  proposal  which  would  avoid  the  question  of 
the  precedence  of  my  two  characters,  that  instead 
of  Mr.  Second  Lieutenant  and  Professor,  etc.  etc.,  I 
should  be  styled  Second  Lieutenant  Mr.  Professor, 
etc.  etc.  This  was  adopted,  and  the  difficulty  hap- 
pily obviated. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

LABORS  IN  BRESLAU— -AVERSION  OF  NATURALISTS  TO  METAPHYS* 
IC3  —  NEANDER  —  FLATONIC  ATTACHMENTS  —  J ACOBI--FRANT2 
BAADER—  STEFFENS'8  PROFESSORIAL  LIFE  AT  BRESLAU  — RAHEL, 
WIFE  OF  VARNHAGEN  VON  ENSE  — BETTINA  VON  ARMIN  — DE  LA 
MOTTE  FOUQUfe  —  STEFFENS'S  RELIGIOUS  FAITH  —  THEOLOGICAL 
INQUIRIES  —•  TRANSFER  TO  BERLIN  —  CONCLUSION. 

The  work  which  absorbed  my  chief  powers  at 
Breslau,  after  my  return  to  my  professorial  duties, 
was  the  development  of  a  complete  philosophy  of 
nature.  Such  a  science  had  swam  before  my  mind 
from  my  earliest  youth,  although  it  had  at  first  been 
in  an  undefined  form.  The  defined  and  scientific  form 
had  been  given  to  these  vague  dreamings  by  Schel- 
ling.  It  were  an  idle  question  whether  my  ideas 
would  have  taken  shape  had  it  not  been  for  Schel- 
ling.  I  hate  such  questions;  they  are  absurd.  How 
ridiculously  would  a  physiologist  appear  if  he  were 
to  base  elaborate  investigations  on  the  question 
what  the  human  organization  would  have  been  had 
the  heart  been  placed  on  the  right  instead  of  on  the 
left  side.  The  first  steps  in  my  inquiries  were  my 
own ;  I  could  not  stop  in  them,  and  had  to  follow, 
lead  me  where  they  would.  I  felt  myself,  while  in 
Breslau,  banished  in  truth  from  the  scientific  world  ; 
but  I  was  faithful  in  all  my  labors,  and  successful  in 
stimulating  young  minds.     I  had  gone  far  enough 

264 


LABORS.  IN  BRESLAU.  265 

to  see  tnat  the  philosophy  of  nature  is  an  indepen- 
dent science,  that  it  must  form  itself  connectedly 
with  and  yet  separated  from  ever}^  other  department 
of  knowledge.  My  task  was  not  to  plunge  into  all  the 
details  of  empirical  inquiry,  much  less  to  feel  bound 
to  follow  all  the  departments  of  experimental  sci- 
ence to  their  latest  discovered  results.  It  has  been 
charged  upon  me  that  I  considered  myself  compe- 
tent to  master  all  these  things  ;  but  such  a  charge  is 
untrue.  Yet  it  is  true  that  I  was  a  patient  inquirer 
into  every  department  of  physical  science,  and  that 
my  interest  in  what  is  experimental  was  so  great 
that  when  the  University  of  Berlin  was  established 
I  did  hope  to  be  transferred  thither.  I  was  forty 
years  old, — just  in  my  prime..  I  had  to  wait  till  I  was 
an  old  man  before  I  was  transferred  to  the  metrop- 
olis. Let  it  not  be  inferred  that  while  the  philoso- 
phy of  nature  had  my  whole  heart,  I  did  not  know 
what  relations  I  held  to  exi^erimental  science. 

Naturalists  as  a  class  will  have  nothing  to  do 
with  metaphysics ;  they  deny  in  toto  that  there  is 
any  tendency  in  empirical  science  towards  specula- 
tive science,  and  if  they  once  had  youthful  dreams 
"which  were  tinged  with  philosophical  abstractions, 
they  forswear  them  utterly  when  they  come  to  en- 
ter upon  their  engrossing  labors  ;  their  views  grad- 
ually become  definite,  single,  fixed,  and  the  prospect 
of  making  new  discoveries  is  so  attractive  as  to 
wholly  absorb  them.  \ 

But  the  abstract  philosopher  will  have  just  as  lit- 
tle to  do  with  empirical  science  ;  you  may  often 
hear  him   speak   depreciatingly  of  it.     The  natu- 


266  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

ralists  may  indeed  be  in  search  of  laws  through 
the  pathway  of  experiment,  but  a  response  from  the 
world  of  law  does  not  come  in  obedience  to  their 
manipulations.  Schelling  had  indeed  laid  a  perma- 
nent foundation  to  the  new  science  of  the  philoso- 
phy of  nature,  but  he  was  now  silent  on  this  sub- 
ject, and  was  pursuing  other  departments  of  thought 
which  were  more  attractive,  and  in  which  his  great 
mind  could  find  freer  play.  Many  of  the  younger 
scholars  were  distinguished  zoologists,  botanists, 
mineralogists  and  geologists,  and  if  speculative  phi- 
losophy interested  the  youth,  yet  it  was  in  the  guise 
of  a  completely  abstract,  formal  network,  in  which 
man  would  ensnare  nature,  not  as  a  living  and  ani- 
mating spirit  which  leaps  forth  and  struggles  even  to 
comprehend  itself.  I  cannot  say  that  I  ever  pledged 
my  allegiance  to  Schelling,  for  he  was  my  master, 
and  ruled  me  whether  I  would  or  not.  One  cannot 
speak  of  pledging  loyalty  where  treason  is  impossi- 
ble. 

I  knew  my  own  true  position  well ;  it  never  fell 
to  my  lot  to  be  led  by  any  cabal ;  I  did  not  believe 
in  such  things,  and  looked  at  them  to  overlook 
them,  just  as  the  mathematician  does  with  infinitely 
small  quantities.  Not  that  I  took  this  good-natured 
view  from  any  want  of  experience ;  on  the  other 
hand,  it  has  been  formed  in  defiance  of  experience. 
And  so,  relying  on  myself  alone,  rather  than  upon 
the  help  of  powerful  friends,  I  was  surprised  at  the 
manifest  tokens  of  public  favor  displayed  towards 
me.  Often  in  my  old  age  I  have  wondered  at  find- 
ing myself  a  professor  in  a  German  university.    The 


NEANDER.  267 

complexity  of  organization  which  is  found  in  these 
institutions  is  so  great  as  to  be  completely  unintelli- 
gible to  a  mere  observer,  and  tends  to  make  one 
feel  that  he  has  passed  out  of  consciousness  into  a 
dream. 

Let  it  not  be  thought  that  through  this  clear 
knowledge  of  ray  own  position  I  was  troubled  on 
account  of  the  nature  of  my  employments.  I 
sought  in  every  way  to  guard  myself  against  self- 
deception,  and  to  accustom  myself  to  my  isolated 
position  in  Breslau,  for  that  position  had  its  good 
side.  I  had  indeed  passed  the  period  of  my  ripest 
maturity,  but  the  glow  of  youth  and  the  inclination 
to  test  by  experience  every  subject  of  my  thought 
would  not  leave  me.  If  one  looks  over  the  whole 
course  of  my  life  he  will  see  that  I  was  less  able 
than  many  are  to  withdraw  myself  from  the  circle 
in  which  I  had  lived.  The  present  and  future  con- 
dition of  Germany  interested  me  just  as  much  as 
my  own  observations  of  nature. 

While  I  was  professor  at  Breslau,  a  chronic  com- 
plaint in  the  stomach  led  me  to  try  the  waters  of 
Carlsbad.  I  spent  six  weeks  at  those  mineral  spings 
—  six  weeks  which  passed  away  very  quickly  and 
pleasantly.  Among  the  invalids  whom  I  met  there, 
the  most  eminent  was  Professor  Neander,  whom  I 
first  knew  as  one  of  my  audience  at  Plalle.  Even 
when  a  student  there  he  lived  the  life  of  a  recluse. 
He  was  remarkably  reticent,  and  did  not  have  many 
acquaintances.  I  only  saw  him  in  the  lecture-room, 
but  I  knew  well  that  his  w^as  one  of  the  best  minds 
among  my  hearers.     The  students  generally  formed 


268  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

very  correct  judgments  of  one  another,  and  they 
regarded  this  reserved,  silent,  awkward  young  man 
with  a  kind  of  timid  awe  ;  they  knew  what  he  was, 
and  what  the  world  had  to  expect  of  him.  I  was 
rejoiced  to  meet  him  at  Carlsbad.  During  the  time 
spent  at  the  springs  I  talked  almost  exclusively 
with  him,  and  I  shall  not  forget  how  rich  his  con- 
versation was.  He  spoke  mostly  on  religious  sub- 
jects, but  in  a  most  instructive  manner.  His  disease 
was  not  without  danger,  and  he  only  kept  himself 
in  working  condition  by  a  most  self-denying,  simple 
and  rigid  life.  He  was  accompanied  by  a  devoted 
sister.  The  gentleness  and  the  entire  aifection  of 
this  sister  was  very  touching,  and  showed  itself  in 
the  extreme  accuracy  with  which  she  took  care  that 
he  should  follow  the  physician's  charge  regarding 
the  times  of  drinking  the  water  from  the  springs. 
The  hours  which  I  spent  with  Neander  at  Carlsbad 
I  shall  not  forget,  for  I  gladly  became  a  pupil  of 
him  who  had  once  been  mine.  Yet  I  missed  there 
two  frequenters  of  the  place,  —  Goethe  was  away, 
Werner  was  dead. 

On  my  way  from  Carlsbad  to  Breslau,  I  tarried 
some  time  at  Munich,  which  was  then  as  great  a 
centre  of  intellect  as  it  now  is  of  art.  I  saw  Schel- 
ling  again  there,  for  the  first  time  after  fourteen 
years,  and  by  him  I  was  made  acquainted  with  Sai- 
ler, the  mystic,  and  with  many  other  men  of  emi- 
nence. He  brought  me  also  in  contact  with  Jacobi, 
whom  I  had  long  wished  to  know.  In  the  later, 
years  of  the  last  century  there  had  been  forming  un- 
der the  influence  of  Lavater,  Claudius,  and  Hamann, 


PLATONIC  ATTACHMENTS.  269 

a  deeper  spirit  of  religious  inquiry,  combining  the 
mystical  with  the  theological.  As  a  consequence  of 
their  efforts  there  had  arisen  a  circle  who  gave  to 
their  letters  and  conversations  a  certain  platonic 
cast  of  expression.  There  were  ladies  of  high  rank 
who  took  a  deep  interest  in  this :  such  were  Sophia 
de  Laroche,  Goethe's  sister,  the  princess  Gallitzin, 
and  Jacobi's  sister,  Lena.  Jacobi  himself  was  the 
real,  living  centre  of  it  all.  He  loved  to  assemble 
gifted  women  around  him  and  stimulate  their  pow- 
ers ;  and  in  his  romance  of  Waldemar  he  tried,  in 
most  perfect  innocence  of  intention,  to  make  this 
new  bigamy  attractive.  A  pure  platonic  marriage 
was,  according  to  him,  a  sign  of  high  spiritual  de- 
velopment ;  and  such  was  his  personal  influence, 
that  although  his  theory  of  this  double  marriage, 
that  of  the  spirit  for  pure  spiritual  growth,  having 
no  relation  to  sex,  and  that  of  the  body  for  the 
mere  purpose  of  propagating  the  race,  was  never 
able  quite  to  convince  the  ladies  of  its  truth, 
yet  he  was  able  to  gather  around  him  a  platonic 
academy,  not  unlike  that  once  assembled  at  Flor- 
ence. That  in  this  circle  Goethe  was  rather  won- 
dered at  than  honored,  may  be  supposed  ;  that  vio- 
lent controversies  sprang  up  within  it,  was  to  be 
expected.  Frederick  Stolberg's  conversion  to  Ca- 
tholicism made  a  great  stir  within  it,  although  the 
reason  of  his  action  was  very  apparent ;  and  Jacobi's 
style  of  writing,  I  may  remark,  is  only  intelligible  to 
one  who  knows  that  it  takes  its  form  from  the  style 
of  his  conversation  with  those  who  formed  his  pla- 
tonic circle. 


270  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

Jacobi  was  the  chief  figure  in  this  circle,  and  he 
was  learned  enough  to  pass  for  a  genuine  pliiloso- 
pher.  He  attacked  the  French  with  amiable  gen- 
tleness for  their  want  of  the  religious  faculty,  and 
this  with  perfect  comprehension  of  their  deficiency, 
for  he  had  been  brought  up  among  them.  Hume 
and  Locke  were  favorites  with  him,  and  for  the  rea- 
son that,  while  they  did  not  satisfy  him,  they  gave 
him  free  play  for  all  his  speculations.  Kant  was  not 
a  favorite  with  him.  Kant's  earnestness,  his  rigid 
dialectics,  and  his  clearness,  were  as  unacceptable  to 
Jacobi  as  the  strict  method  of  Spinoza.  He  indeed 
thought  himself  competent  to  be  an  opponent  of 
Kant ;  and  it  is  not  to  be  denied  that  Jacobi  had  a 
talent  at  suspecting  where  truth  lay,  and  of  specu- 
lating upon  it,  which  was  his  justification  in  oppos- 
ing Kant ;  and  yet  what  the  latter  only  made  more 
narrow  and  limited,  and  kept  in  a  smaller  field 
than  before,  the  former,  by  his  want  of  clearness  of 
perception,  only  made  more  obscure. 

Jacobi  was  poet  enough  to  give  the  charm  of  style 
to  his  speculations,  and  the  back-ground  of  philo- 
sophic thought  was  not  an  unhappy  means  of  dis- 
playing the  finish  of  his  rhetoric.  The  Letters  of 
All  will,  as  well  as  Waldemar,  cannot  be  compared 
with  any  other  productions  of  his  time;  the  mark  of  a 
womanly  nature  which  they  bore  formed,  artisti- 
cally speaking,  the  characteristic  of  his  conceptions, 
and  formed  an  interesting  precursor  of  that  genuine 
womanly  power  which  gave  him  at  a  later  day  his 
sweetness,  richness,  and  variety. 

I  found  Schelling  perfectly  justified  for  his  sever- 


JACOBL  271 

ity  towards  Jacobi.  He  had  written  of  the  latter 
with  great  power  and  keenness,  but  he  could  not  do 
less.  I  told  Schelling  of  ray  relations  to  Jacobi. 
"You  raust  visit  him,"  he  answered;  "it  would  be 
wrong  to  let  pass  an  opportunity  to  meet  a  man 
who  has  played  a  grand  part  on  the  role  of  our  na- 
tional literature."  So  I  visited  him,  and  found  him 
with  his  sister,  who  lived  for  him,  giving  herself 
wholly  to  the  duty  of  caring  for  him.  Rigidly  as  I 
judged  the  philosopher  and  the  author,  little  as  I 
felt  drawn  to  him  at  any  epoch  of  my  life,  or  could 
resolve  to  go  with  him  on  his  way,  yet  there  was  in 
him  an  element  so  genuinely  human  that  I  could 
not  overlook  it,  nor  could  I  forget  that  it  was  he 
'who  first  interested  me  in  speculative  philosophy  by 
making  me  acquainted  with  Spinoza.  I  once  be- 
lieved that  he  who  called  my  attention  to  Jordan  us 
Brunus,  and  who  himself  seemed  to  penetrate  to 
what  was  deepest  in  Leibnitz,  had  been  appointed 
to  exercise  a  deep  influence  ujDon  his  times.  The 
times  had  not  been  all  that  I  expected,  or  rather 
they  had  demanded  a  mightier  man  than  he  to 
meet  their  exigencies ;  and  yet  I  could  not  see  his 
sun  sadly  setting  in  his  old  age  without  a  certain 
tincje  of  sadness. 

Jacobi  was  slim  and  graceful ;  in  his  youth  he 
must  have  been  handsome.  He  appeared  to  me 
more  as  a  finished  gentleman  than  as  a  scholar;  his 
bearing  was  high-bred,  even  with  a  touch  of  diplo- 
matic manners ;  his  features  were  very  expressive, 
and  there  was  grace  in  his  every  motion.  His  dress 
was   very  rich   and    carefully   made    up;    it   even 


272  THE  STORY  OF  MY  C4IiEER. 

seemed  as  though  he  bestowed  too  much  attention 
to  this  matter,  considering  his  age  and  his  profes- 
sion. When  I  entered  his  room  he  received  me 
with  great  cordiality,  and  I  approached  him  with 
an  emotion  which  I  could  not  repress.  He  called 
forth,  I  confess,  my  pity  and  my  respect ;  I  could 
see  that  there  was  a  man  who  had  known  by  expe- 
rience what  it  is  to  bear  sickness  and  sorrow. 

Jacobi  had  some  paper  of  mine  lying  before  him. 
It  is  well  known  that  his  habit  was  of  no  tin  2:  down 
his  comments  of  whatever  he  read,  whether  in  ap- 
proval or  criticism,  and  by  the  abundance  of  these 
marginal  notes  on  my  production  it  was  plain  with 
what  care  he  had  read  it.  I  knew  well  that  he 
would  not  be  displeased  with  it,  for  he  was  alluded 
to  in  the  paper  in  a  very  kind  way.  It  could  not 
but  be  grateful  to  him  to  be  handsomely  spoken  of 
by  Schelling's  w^armest  friend  and  closest  adherent. 
But  what  pleased  me  in  the  interview  was  not  so 
much  his  spirit  as  that  of  his  sister,  and  the  affec- 
tionate manner  in  which  she  clung  to  him.  For  a 
long  series  of  years  Ijcna  had  lived  one  life  w^ith 
him,  had  taken  part  in  all  his  studies,  had  shared  in 
all  his  disputations,  had  changed  the  still  self-com- 
munion of  that  retired  man  into  a  Ion  2:  con  versa- 
tion,  and  had  even  ennobled  and  exalted  her  broth- 
er by  her  presence.  The  spectacle  of  this  rare  at- 
tachment was  very  beautiful.  He  was  trustful  and 
mild ;  she  devoted,  calm,  and  happy. 

It  was  my  good  fortune  to  make  another  interest- 
ing acquaintance  in  Munich.  This  was  Frantz  Baa- 
der.     He  stood  so  aloof  from  society,  so  signally  iso- 


FRANTZ  BAADER.  273 

lated,  that  people  looked  at  him  with  different  eyes 
from  those  with  which  they  regarded  other  people. 
In  South  Germany  there  had  existed  a  mystic 
school  for  some  time.  It  had,  since  the  advent  of 
Mesmer,  espoused  magnetism  as  its  pet  theory,  and 
its  members  extended  even  into  Switzerland.  They 
stood,  if  I  mistake  not,  in  intimate  relations  with 
the  mystics  of  South  France,  Saint  Martin,  and  oth- 
ers, and  Frantz  Baader  had  in  his  youth  been  closely 
connected  with  eminent  men  of  this  school.  Among 
all  those  mystics  he  'was  the  most  genial,  as  well  as 
the  most  thoroughgoing.  He  was  always  publishing 
little  pamphlets,  some  of  them  of  great  interest ;  the 
title  of  one  I  remember;  it  was  The  Lightning  Fa- 
ther of  the  Light.  This  title  itself  might  have  served 
as  the  motto  of  all  his  writings.  I  had  had  some 
correspondence  with  him  before  I  came  to  Munich, 
and  had  the  strongest  curiosity  to  meet  him.  I  had 
been  thought  to  resemble  him  in  appearance,  and 
this  only  sharpened  my  desire  to  see  him. 

So  I  called  upon  Frantz  Baader.  He  was  just  on 
the  point  of  going  out.  His  figure  surprised  me, 
for  it  was  not  what  I  had  expected.  He  was  quite 
slim,  very  active,  and  his  countenance  was  that  of 
a  man  who  had  apparently  seen  much  of  the  world. 
This  appearance  passed  away  when  I  came  to  know 
him  more  fully.  He  received  me  with  great  cordial- 
ity, and  invited  me  to  accompany  him  on  a  walk. 
We  soon  found  topics  of  conversation.  Expressions 
indicating  deej)  thought  were  interspersed  with 
dashing  witticisms.  He  talked  incessantly;  and 
when  a  subject  of  special  interest  engaged  him,  he 

18 


274  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

would  stop  in  the  midst  of  the  mud  in  the  street 
and  deliver,  in  a  high,  excited  tone,  a  kind  of  off- 
hand lecture.  The  passers-by  seemed  to  know  him, 
and  paid  little  attention  to  him.  He  joked  inces- 
santly, and  yet  every  now  and  then  he  would  drop 
a  wise  remark,  so  that  at  last  I  felt  fairly  bewitched 
with  his  talk.  I  remember  one  remark  which  he 
made  in  the  midst  of  this  incessant  play  of  fire- 
works. We  were  talking  of  Goethe.  "Yes,"  he 
said,  "  this  poet  is  in  truth  the  Lucky  Hen  of  our 
times,  but  she  has  hatched  a  brood  of  ducks,  which 
swims  securely,  while  the  old  hen  stands  fearfully 
cackling  by  the  water-side."  Afterwards  he  used 
to  have  his  witticisms  printed  in  the  papers.  When 
I  was  in  Munich  in  1837,  before  I  had  called  upon 
him,  he  waited  upon  me  at  the  hotel.  As  soon  as 
he  had  entered  my  room,  before  he  had  hardly 
greeted  my  wife  and  daughter,  he  plunged  his 
hand  into  his  pocket  and  pulled  out  a  mass  of  paper 
fragments  on  which  his  witticisms  were  printed.  I 
remember  only  one  of  them.  The  cholera  had 
thrown  Rome  into  dismay,  and  the  Pope  had  with- 
drawn to  St.  Angelo.  "  What  will  become  of  the 
Catholic  Church,"  so  ran  the  witticism,  "now  that 
the  Pope  has  excommunicated  himself?"  Baader's 
own  relation  to  the  church  was  a  very  changing  one 
in  his  later  years. 

When  I  left  Munich  in  1817  he  was  thinking  of 
nothing  else  than  the  formation  of  a  great  ecclesias- 
tical union.  He  had  outlived  then,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  the  time  when  mesmerism  was  his  hobby ; 
now  he  was  busied  with  the  thought  of  uniting  the 


FRANTZ  BAADER.  275 

three  great  churches,  the  Catholic,  Greek,  and  Pro- 
testant. The  Catholic  and  Protestant  Churches 
form,  he  held,  a  complete  antagonism,  which  was  al- 
ways becoming  more  confirmed.  The  mystic  trian- 
gle would  only  be  formed  by  the  admission  of  the 
Greek  Church.  He  thought  that  lie  could  interest 
the  Russian  emperor,  Alexander,  in  his  plan.  In 
conjunction  with  a  friend,  he  resolved  to  make  a 
journey  to  Russia  to  accomplish  this  undertaking. 
How  little  he  comprehended  the  scope  of  his  pro- 
posed work,  he  very  poorly  understood,  but  he 
learned  it  at  length.  He  had  come  to  a  powerful 
country,  which  was  entirely  new  to  him,  and  ex- 
pected to  be  able  to  influence  its  monarch.  Fortu- 
nately he  was  persuaded  to  relinquish  his  plan  and 
to  turn  back  at  Riga.  He  afterwards  became  a  very 
determined  antagonist  of  the  Catholics,  and  showed 
in  his  own  experience  the  truth  of  his  assertion, 
that  in  case  there  were  no  union  between  the  three 
great  churches  of  Christendom,  the  one  of  south- 
western Europe  would  divide  against  itself.  It  is 
singular  that  the  plan  of  a  union,  which,  if  it  were 
a  true  one,  would  unite  the  most  conflicting  ele- 
ments of  society,  should  emanate  from  a  man  whose 
disunited  nature  made  him  remarkable  amono:  the 
men  of  his  time.  He  was,  taken  as  a  wliole,  one  of 
the  marked  men  of  the  age,  though  he  was  compre- 
hended but  by  a  few.  He  felt  that  Jacob  Bohme, 
the  mystic,  was  the  grandest  soul  which  Germany 
had  produced,  and  that  it  was  his  own  mission  to 
reveal  his  greatness  to  the  world,  and  although  few 
knew  Bohme's  writings  so  intimately  as  he,  yet  be 


276         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

died  at  last,  at  a  ripe  old  age,  without  having  writ- 
ten any  adequate  exposition  of  him  whom  he  was 
glad  to  hail  as  his  master. 

My  life  at  Breslau  was  unmarked  by  great  events. 
In  1821  I  was  elected  rector  of  the  universitv,  and 
endeavored  to  discharge  faithfully  the  duties  of  that 
post.  My  time  was  devoted  to  the  preparation  of 
my  lectures,  to  social  gatherings,  to  the  writing  of 
my  book  on  Geology,  and  the  various  novels  with 
which  I  amused  myself  in  my  leisure  hours,  and 
enlarged  the  circle  of  my  activities.  The  latter 
received  much  applause,  and  brought  me  into  inti- 
mate relations  with  many  eminent  personages.  Yet 
ray  life  at  Breslau,  protracted  as  it  was  until  1832, 
became  dull  and  formal,  and  during  the  last  seven 
years  of  it  I  felt  a  strong  conviction  that  my  meri- 
dian day  had  passed,  and  that  I  had  entered  upon  the 
period  of  decline.  That  I,  an  old  man,  should  write 
novels,  brought  upon  me  a  great  deal  of  ridicule ; 
but  they  amused  me,  and  I  let  the  world  laugh  on. 
I  was  moderately  successful  as  a  lecturer.  I  had 
not  a  large  number  of  students,  but  among  them 
there  were  some  of  promise,  while  among  the  pro- 
fessors there  were  a  few  men  of  mark  and  power. 
After  Raumer  had  been  transferred  to  Berlin,  the 
department  of  mineralogy  passed  over  to  me,  and 
the  charge  of  the  cabinet  became  a  part  of  my 
duties.  So  my  time  was  fully  occupied.  During 
the  vacations  I  made  little  tours  with  my  wife  and 
family  to  the  most  attractive  parts  of  Germany, 
and  always  came  back  refreshed  to  my  labors.  I 
received  while  at  Breslau  distinguished  honors  from 


RAHEL  VON  VARNHAGEN.  217 

the  king  of  Denmark,  who  invited  me  to  Berlin  to 
attend  hira  in  his  visits  to  the  objects  of  interest 
in  that  city  while  he  was  the  guest  of  the  king  of 
Prussia  ;  and  the  young  prince,  afterwards  Freder- 
ick William  the  Fourth,  showed  me  much  honor  on 
the  occasion  of  his  tour  through  the  mountains  of 
Silesia,  at  which  time  I  was  designated  as  the  direc- 
tor of  the  royal  party  in  its  excursion. 

The  great  advantage  w^hich  I  gained  from  my 
novel-writing  was  that  it  threw  me  into  the  most 
intimate  relations  with  i^me  of  the  most  gifted 
women  of  my  time.  I  am  not  easily  able  to  ex- 
press what  I  owe  to  the  stimulating  powers  of  some 
noble  minds  of  this  sex  ;  but  it  is  true  that  the  time 
of  my  making  their  acquaintance  was  an  epoch  in 
my  life.  I  may  allude  very  especially  to  two,  Rahel 
von  Varnhagen  and  Bettina  von  Arnim.  With  the 
former  I  had  been  for  some  time  acquainted.  The 
most  marked  of  my  former  hearers,  who  left  Halle 
in  1806  and  went  to  Berlin,  collected  themselves 
around  Rahel,  and  she  became  the  wife  of  one  of 
them.  As  an  authoress  she  was  always  sententious, 
and  she  carried  this  manner  into  all  her  conversa- 
tion. She  was  invariably  occupied  with  the  weight- 
iest subjects,  and,  although  an  authoress,  yet  still 
more  a  woman.  She  was  never  the  disciple  of 
any  man,  although  she  was  a  hearer  of  Fichte's 
lectures.  Great  ideas  were  always  thronging  in 
•upon  her  mind ;  these  were  sometimes  unexpressed, 
and  sometimes  they  found  utterance  in  her  writings 
and  in  her  conversation.  That  which  she  could  find 
no  expression  for,  she  used  to  personify  in  two  men 


278  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

of  her  time,  and  all  that  was  akin  to  life  she  as- 
cribed to  Goethe,  all  that  was  akin  to  wisdom  she 
ascribed  to  Fichte.  Kor  did  her  adoration  of  these 
men  spring  from  an  objective  appreciation  of  the 
part  Xv^iich  they  played  in  the  nge,  it  was  rather 
the  giving  of  her  whole  being  to  them  ;  she  saw 
herself  reflected  in  them  as  a  true  wife  sees  herself 
reflected  in  her  husband.  She  did  not  come  to  it 
by  comparing  Goethe  with  other  poets,  nor  Fichte 
with  other  j^hilosophers ;  her  view  was  an  entirely 
independent  one;  and  just  as  a  true  wife  stands 
more  securely  in  her  own  strength  when  she  gives 
herself  exclusively  to  her  husband,  so  Rahel  was 
the  more  independent  in  her  own  judgment  because 
she  measured  her  thoughts  by  those  two  gigantic 
standards. 

With  Bettina  von  Arnim  my  relations  were  of 
an  entirely  different  sort.  Clemens  Brentano,  her 
brother,  was  one  of  my  first  acquaintances  in  Ger- 
many. Achan  von  Arnim,  her  husband,  I  had  met 
years  before  in  Halle.  There  were  epochs  in  my 
life  when  my  intimacy  with  her  was  not  without 
value  to  my  mental  development.  Her  rich,  pe- 
culiar, rare,  but  unbridled  fancy  charmed  me.  I 
yielded  myself  wholly  to  it;  we  wandered  together 
into  the  most  distant  regions,  and  I  returned  from 
such  excursions  as  unwillingly  as  one  would  awake 
from  a  pleasant  dream.  Thoughts  swift  as  light- 
ning ran  through  my  mind  while  under  the  spell  of 
this  delightful  enchantment,  and  a  thousand  visions 
were  formed  which  did  not  wholly  pass  away  when 
I  returned  to  my  colder  moods.     After  she  became 


STEFFENS'S  RELIGIOUS   VIEWS.  279 

an  authoress  I  saw  less  of  her,  and,  indeed,  our  views 
of  life  drew  us  widely  apart.  And  yet,  though  ray 
intimacy  with  her  looks  now  like  a  dream,  yet  it 
afforded  me  some  of  the  richest  hours  of  my  life. 

Among  the  gifted  writers  with  whom  I  became 
acquainted,  I  ought  not  to  pass  over  the  wife  of  de 
la  Motte  Fouque.  Her  husband  I  had  first  met  after 
the  war.  He  had  the  ability  to  ingratiate  himself  at 
once  into  confidence ;  and  when  I  first  met  him  at  a 
party,  during  a  conversation  on  all  kinds  of  subjects, 
he  drew  me  to  a  window.  One  of  my  expressions 
had  pleased  him,  and  I  was  not  a  little  surprised  to 
hear  him  say,  "  Steffens,  that  is  spoken  as  it  were 
out  of  my  own  soul ;  we  must  know  each  other  bet- 
ter." He  embraced  me,  and  continued  to  address 
me  with  the  confidential  Thou.  Thus,  while  myself 
an  old  man,  I  had  gained  a  new  friend  in  a  manner 
truly  romantic.  I  have  never  been  able  to  think 
without  sadness  of  the  declining  days  of  this  poet, 
who  gained  a  not  insignificant  reputation.  His  first 
wife  gave  me  her  confidence  in  all  matters  of  litera- 
ture. Yet  I  confess  that  she  passed  away  before  I 
bad  fully  grasped  the  range  of  her  capabilities. 

During  my  last  years  in  Halle,  and  while  I  lived 
in  Breslau,  my  interest  in  religion  made  great  ad- 
vances. I  had  till  then  felt  no  inclination  to  join 
the  church,  and,  indeed,  I  was  wholly  estranged  from 
its  interests.  Looking  at  religion  as  I  looked  at  na- 
ture, I  saw  that  it  must  be  everything  or  nothing  to 
me ;  but  it  seemed  to  me  to  have  come  to  no  posi- 
tive statement,  and  seemed  little  else  than  a  product 
of  esteem  among  those  who  are  friends.    Whoever 


280         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

had  the  good  fortune  to  live  in  intimate  relations 
with  Schleiermacher,  whoever  has  known  the  thor- 
oughly noble,  pure,  tranquil,  and  tranquillizing  spirit 
which  he  always  carried,  will  understand  how  one 
who  should  associate  with  him  would  find  it  diffi- 
cult to  discriminate  between  his  religion  and  his 
manliness.  Later  in  life  I  learned  that  a  reviving 
of  church-spirit  was  one  of  the  signs  of  the  times. 
It  cannot  be  denied  that  when  one  looks  at  the  re- 
ligious character  of  the  German  nation  during  the 
past  two  centuries,  this  period  of  transition  seems 
of  special  advantage.  Bunsen  was  the  pioneer  in 
developing  the  history  of  sacred  music  through 
the  successive  steps  of  the  Protestant  church.  In 
his  researches  it  may  easily  be  seen  how  our  hymns 
have  gradually  lost  an  indefinite  tone  and  have  as- 
sumed a  personal  character,  as  if  speaking  out  the 
praises  and  aspirations  of  the  individual  heart.  This 
indicates  a  change  of  feeling  which,  beginning  with 
learned  men,  reached  out  at  last  and  afiected  the 
whole  popular  heart. 

I  need  not  enter  into  all  the  thoughts  which  en- 
gaged  my  attention  as  I  turned  seriously  to  this 
great  topic  of  religion.  The  question  which  most 
nearly  concerned  me  was,  Must  I,  in  order  to  be- 
come a  Christian  in  the  full  sense  of  the  word,  neces- 
sarily become  a  theologian?  Must  I  give  up  the 
studies  to  which  I  seemed  to  be  specidly  adapted, 
and  enter  in  my  old  age  upon  a  course  of  inquiries 
for  which  I  had  no  natural  inclination  ?  Few  men, 
I  think,  have  contended  as  earnestly  within  them- 
selves   as    I    did    while    settling    this    battle,      A 


STEFFENS'S  RELIGIOUS  VIEWS.  281 

Protestant  was  I  with  my  whole  soul,  yet  I 
must  confess  that  Protestantism  as  it  existed  then 
seemed  to  have  called  forth  a  conflict  which  it  had 
not  settled.  And  so  I  was  given  over  to  all  kinds 
of  doubts.  Still,  I  was  convinced  that  religion  was 
not  mere  speculation,  it  was  not  philosophy;  this 
was  ideal  and  subjective;  but  religion  must  be  objec- 
tive truth,  having  the  same  relation  to  the  soul  and 
its  wants  that  nature  had  to  scientific  investigations. 
Like  nature,  it  was  a  gift  of  God,  and  it  must  be 
known  and  become  real  to  the  consciousness. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  express  the  value  that 
Schleiermacher  was  to  me  in  those  days ;  my  rela- 
tion to  him  was  the  most  charming  feature  of  my 
early  life.  His  personal  weight  of  character  was  so 
great  that  he  had  an  influence  on  the  superficiality 
of  Berlin  greater  than  any  other,  and  his  funeral 
obsequies  were  celebrated  by  the  most  remarkable 
display  of  afiection  and  reverence  that  Berlin  has 
ever  witnessed.  And  while  we  were  together  he 
strengthened  me  beyond  measure,  and  formed  the 
centre  of  all  friendly  gatherings.  The  three  Calvin- 
istic  preachers  of  Halle  were  intimate  with  Schleier- 
macher, and  so,  while  I  did  not  fully  understand  all 
their  statements  of  doctrine,  I  was  united  to  them 
and  him  in  truly  Christian  sympathy. 

My  thoughts  were  directed  to  the  subject  of  the- 
ology and  the  church  during  the  later  years  of  my 
career  at  Breslau,  and  had  a  decisive  interest  over 
the  future  of  my  life.  By  degrees  I  became  attached  to 
the  old  Lutheran  faith  and  symbols,  and  an  avowed 
supporter  of  the  Lutheran  party.     I  united  with 


282  THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER. 

their  church,  and  continued  in  full  fellowship  with 
it,  and  the  pamphlets  which  I  put  forth  in  defence 
of  it  contribute  no  slight  portion  of  my  published 
writings.  But  I  met  with  great  opposition,  and 
from  none  more  than  from  my  coadjutors  at  Bres- 
lau.  There  is  little  need  that  I  should  dwell  on  the 
bitterness  which  grew  out  of  this.  Enough  to  say 
that  all  my  later  years  there  were  saddened  by  theo- 
logical asperities,  and  that  at  last  I  longed  to  be  re- 
moved to  some  other  field  of  labor,  where,  in  quiet 
and  with  an  income  equal  to  my  moderate  wants,  I 
might  pass  a  tranquil  old  age.  I  had  then  nearly 
reached  my  sixtieth  year.  I  had  passed  over  twenty 
years  at  Breslau,  and  had  many  ties  which  bound 
me  there,  but  not  so  many  as  to  offset  the  bitterness 
•which  sprung  from  the  theological  position  which  I 
had  taken.  It  was  preeminently  the  time  for  exag- 
gerated church  feeling.  The  king,  Frederick  Wil- 
liam Third,  was  devoting  much  attention  to  his  plan 
of  union ;  in  fact  the  formation  of  a  new  church  on 
the  basis  of  the  united  Lutheran  and  Calvinistic 
churches  was  the  absorbing  subject  of  his  thoughts, 
and  the  crown  prince  was  scarcely  less  interested 
than  he.  The  country  was  awake  with  an  ecclesias- 
tical spirit  which  had  hardly  been  known  since  the 
daj's  of  the  Reformation. 

Under  these  circumstances,  while  I  had  in  my 
earnest  advocacy  of  the  Lutheran  cause  estranged 
many  able  and  influential  men  from  my  interests, 
the  personal  favor  of  the  crown  prince  placed  me 
at  once  in  complete  possession  of  what  I  desired, 
and  procured  me  a  call  to  the  University  of  Berlin. 


TRANSFER  TO  BERLIN.  283 

Tkis  was  in  1832.  There  was  no  place  which  I  so 
much  desired  as  a  home  as  BerUn.  Konigsberg 
seemed  to  be  out  of  the  world ;  and  Bonn,  although 
desirable  on  many  accounts,  was  not  to  be  compared 
with  the  great  Prussian  capital.  And  yet  my  man- 
ner of  thinking  was  radically  unlike  that  of  Berlin  ; 
the  empirical  school  had  there  complete  sway,  and 
Hegel's  exact  method  had  no  rival.  The  reception, 
therefore,  given  to  a  disciple  of  Schelling  could  not 
be  cordial,  and  much  as  I  felicitated  myself  on  my 
transfer,  yet  I  did  not  expect  immediate  success? 
and  was  not  disappointed  at  not  meeting  it.  The 
subjects  on  which  I  lecture  are  comparative  physi- 
<>^ogy)  psychology,  geology,  the  philosophy  of  re- 
ligion, those  on  psychology  being  the  most  largely 
attended.  My  room  hap  never  been  thronged,  yet  I 
have  been  gratified  in  drawing  around  me  not  only 
an  unusually  large  number  of  foreigners.  English- 
men, Poles,  Russians,  Greeks,  and  Americans,  but 
in  winning  the  confidence  and  attachment  of  some 
young  men  of  rare  promise.  Since  my  transfer  to 
Berlin  I  have  been  elected  rector  of  the  university, 
and  have  sought  to  administer  that  trust  as  impar- 
tially as  at  Breslau.  On  the  whole  I  have  passed 
ten  pleasant  years  here,  and  my  old  age  is  drawing 
to  a  tranquil  end.  It  is  a  great  consolation  to  me 
that  my  own  king  now  regards  me  with  so  great 
favor,  that  my  Danish  fellow-subjects  look  upon  my 
career  with  pride  and  upon  me  with  honor,  and 
that  in  my  little  journeys  to  Denmark,  and  to  Nor- 
way and  Sweden,  I  have  received  attentions  which 
I  wish  were  better  deserved.     The  preparation  of 


284         THE  STORY  OF  MY  CAREER, 

my  Autobiography  has  been  one  of  the  recreations 
of  my  declining  years,  for  it  is  not  without  pleasure 
that  I  have  gone  back  into  the  valley  of  past  years, 
reviewed  the  scenes  and  the  hopes  of  youth  and 
early  manhood,  and  recalled  the  faces  and  the  char- 
acters of  those  whom  I  have  known  and  loved. 
Mine  has  been  an  eventful  life  and  passed  in  event- 
ful days,  and  I  trust  that  its  story  has  not  been  a 
mere  recreation  to  an  old  man,  but  to  many  a  reader 
who  loves  the  social  and  the  scholarly  life  of  Ger- 
many. 


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University  of  California 

Berkeley 


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